


The Paladin and The Dragon

by sf92xx



Category: Almost rape/sexual assault, Bishop - Fandom, Casavir - Fandom, Dragonborn - Fandom, SRM, Skyrim, Skyrim Romance Mod - Fandom, Slow burning romance - Fandom
Genre: Action, Magic, Other, Romance, Skyrim - Freeform, Skyrimromancemod, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 187,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sf92xx/pseuds/sf92xx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fan fiction story for the Skyrim romance mod and in tribute of my favorite Paladin, Casavir. I hold no claim to the Paladin, Skyrim or the mod itself. I merely wish to share my weird and wonderful imagination and my take on the Holy Knight.</p><p>This story follows the main quest line of Skyrim so there are huge spoilers if you haven't played the main quest.<br/>This is my first fanfic so please be kind with comments. There MIGHT be spelling mistakes (be gentle with me.)</p><p>Casavir had traveled a great distance, from land and sea to come to Skyrim after rumors spread like wildfire across Nirn of the return of the Dragonborn.<br/>Casavir needed a new start, a new beginning; away from the dark shadows of his past. For a new beginning beside the legendary Dragonborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dragonborn comes

The winds were bitter and merciless through the snowy mountain path. This land of Skyrim was like no other he had experienced. Never had he been so cold, his homeland was warm and pleasant. Even during the winter season it was never so bitter. Casavir travelled on foot as he did not see the snowy mountains round wolf skull cave a place for such a loyal steed.

Being in this harsh ruthless land, he missed the temple, he missed the familiarities of his homeland and the familiar faces, but there was one he missed even more than his home…. He missed her.  
He had travelled a great distance, by land and water to get to Skyrim. Word had travelled like wildfire across Nirn of the events taking place in Tamriel. The return of the Dragonborn.

He could not miss the opportunity to fight alongside this mighty warrior. A cause that he found to be just… the perfect cause. An opportunity to prove himself. To demonstrate his bravery, to learn new tactics, and to do good in the world.  
When he reached Solitude and heard word of the Dragonborn travelling his way, he made sure he was in preen condition. He knew there would be many strong and capable fighters who undoubtedly flocked to offer their swords to her aid.

He waited days, weeks, his forbearing patience began to dwindle and he did consider going out and finding this great warrior himself.  
That day the Gods graced him to meet the great Dragonborn, he would shamefully admit he was rather sceptical of her at the beginning. He thought the guards were toying with him at first. Though she did stand out in some way, he could see there was indeed something different about her. Her aura was strong, writhing with pure energy and fierce power. He was well aware the Dragonborn was a woman, but he never expected her to be…  
How hard it was to speak to her at first. He sounded rehearsed, and he knew it. It was hard to focus on anything else when she looked into his eyes with those enchanting emerald orbs that glittered with gold. She seemed weary of her travels but she was kind and polite enough not to shun him away. He being polite as always joined her on her errands, carrying her things and opening doors for her, he wanted to make a good impression, he had to. Then that damn ranger came out of nowhere and swept her away.  
Their was a way he could speak to her without interruptions, he had been working up to asking her to the Grand Crystal ball he had been invited to, he was hoping perhaps she would be able to guide him in the culture and customs of Skyrim since he was so new to the land. He was a little disheartened when she declined at first but then she returned a few days after and accepted.  
When she came to meet him for the ball he couldn’t believe his eyes. She was strikingly attractive when he first saw her but now in the dress she had chosen she left him speechless. She was perfect, it was elegant and classy. He felt weak at the knees when he noticed how it clung to her divine full figure.  
Simple touching her delicate hands made sparks fly through him and took a huge blow to the great wall he had built around himself.

When he danced with her, having to hold her closer that he should have because she kept tripping over herself. That ravishing smile of accomplishment she gave him when she learnt the footwork of the dance.  
He had dreamt of that night over and over, holding her close. Just him and his lady, the soft melodic harp and the lute, losing himself in those beautiful eyes. Hearing her heartwarming laugh…

Oh how he wish he could be graced just another day with her, if it wasn’t for that savage she had tagging along, corrupting her every move and domineering over her.

Casavir pushed it to the back of his mind before he let it irritate him again as he reached Wolfskull cave.  
He had overheard a man in the town raving about something strange going on here. Something unholy. Being a Paladin he felt it was his duty to resolve this matter, to put an end to worries of the locals.

Upon approaching the cave he was greeted by walking Skeletons. How are they even moving? He thought, though he didn’t stop to ask as they attacked, not much for guards as Casavir made short work of them.

He could feel an evil aura emanating from inside it made his stomach turn. He withdrew his sword and readied himself for whatever awaited him inside.  
Inside he battled through against the undead and the necromancers inside until he reached the old Nordic ruins buried in the centre of the mountain.

“Impressive” He shrugged, a violet ball of light was building at the top of the towered ruin. The evil spewing from it was foreboding as it made Casavir feel uneasy.

He said a quick prayer as a readied himself for a draugr that had spotted him and charging making Casavir’s presence known to the rest of the hostiles.

The battle was on, and it was a brutal fight. The ruins echoed with the sound of blades colliding together and spells flying through the air.  
When every last draugr was slain, and every necromancer had fallen. He placed his sword on his back and regained his calm composure. The was a brutal one, he had used his restoration skills many times in that battle, mostly on the necromancers as their spells of ice and sparks were difficult to avoid. He was left stumped when he was blasted against the wall by some unforeseen force when a draugr echoed some thundering words.

Was that a dragon voice? He thought. This was an ancient Nordic ruin.  
The evil presence began to disintegrate from the cave and he was relieved he had rid the cave of its demonic aura.

He scoured around the ruins for useful supplies and headed back out the cave. But as he reached the the bottom of the tower he suddenly felt very weak and stumbled to his knees.

His arm felt stiff and ached. A painful throbbing began along his arm and made his blood burn like hot lead.

Ouch… he winched as he peeled back the blood soaked chain mail and leathers.

A knife wound he had sustained during his battle when a necromancer jumped out of the shadows wielding a dagger, it was surprisingly more painful than he expected. When he examined it closer he saw the wound looked rather sickly for a fresh cut, it was swollen and red, the veins around the wound were turning green.

The dark room was spinning and he was sweating profusely.  
Poison… I’ve been poisoned. He sighed looking through his vials to find something to help but all had was a strength potion. He popped the cork and drank it up.  
That’ll have to do.  
With the borrowed strength he made his way out of the cave. He needed to get to town, it was the only way he would survive.

This poison was potent and stung in his veins as it made every fibre of him ache, each movement he made was agonising and even through the beads of sweat dripping from his brow he felt cold.  
Finally out of the cave and welcomed again by the bitter cold made his entire body shake. He headed down the road and used his sword as a crutch to move along the poison was strong… a sensation ran through him that made him fall to his knees.  
Before he came to Skyrim he would have embraced death with open arms. He had hoped that accompanying the Dragonborn against the dragon threat would have been his demise. Sadly that ranger put a halt to that. And after meeting her, it had wavered his ideas of his suicidal quest.

For the thought of leaving this world without seeing her one last time was more agonising than the poison that was slowly killing him.  
Damn it!  
His strength was weakening, he could feel his muscles ache and sease up with every forced movement. He worried he wouldn’t get to the town in time.

Don’t think like that Casavir, keep going. He ushered himself forward along the snowy road.  
A howl came on the wind, barks and snarls grew closer and began to surround him.

Wolves… Just what I need at this moment, he groaned angrily.

He propped himself against a tree and readied himself as the first wolf came at him, he punched it hard and watched it scamper away as he regained himself. The punch send a wave of prickling pain through him.

He was so weak and the wolves sensed it, the tenacious Paladin kept them at bay as he gripped desperately to the last strings of life.  
Her wonderful eyes and the infectious smile she came to him. As if the Gods gave him a vision, or something to give him comfort in his last moments. He remembered the fire he felt burn inside her, how she stood tall for such a small woman.

“I will see you again. My lady.” He vowed to himself. Giving himself a reason to fight, he would make it back to Solitude… he had to…  
Another wolf pounced and he swung his sword slicing the wolf in two. The swords strike was strong and pulled him down with its momentum.

DAMN IT! He cursed in a flash of panic.

On his back, he was exposed and the wolves did not hesitate at their opportunity and went in for the kill. His steel armour gave him some shielding as he protected his face and throat. With one wolf inches from his face snapping and drooling on his face he gripped its throat tighter until he felt a crunch and it ceased to move. He roared in agony and rage as he fought for his life as they gave him no chance of getting to his feet.  
One wolf seized his blood soaked arm and bit down hard. He yelled in pain as it sunk its teeth into his exposed arm, leaving him with only one arm to protect himself.

The sky was spinning and the wolves snarling jaws and vicious eyes began to fade into a blur. He grabbed another wolf by its mane and threw it at the one chewing on his arm.  
Two down, he told himself.  
He realised the others had backed away, and were snarling at something thundering slowly in the snow, he heard its growl.

Bear… Of course it was a bear.

He feared it was over, the bear also took it chance for an easy kill. He rolled over and saw his sword inches away. Grasping it tightly with white knuckles he knew he had little chance against a bear in his state. He had used all his strength to throw the damn wolf off him but he had none left to face such a beast…  
Was this a sign of it being the end?  
Were the gods telling him it was time?  
The questions ran wild through his mind. But Casavir would never back down from a battle until his last breath. If he was to die here, he would do it with honour. He tried to use his healing tome to try to stem the bleeding, but his magicka was practically non existent, the poison was eating away at everything. He couldn’t stand, left to kneel before such a creature. If this was to be the end, let it be just.

The wolves had run off, even they weren’t foolish enough to challenge a bear. But Casavir had no such luxury as the bear began to charge. Building up all his might and roared loudly to match that of the bears.  
There was a loud crack of thunder a rumbling blast hurtled the bear well away from him.

Casavir collapsed on the fresh fallen snow as the poison finally began to claim him. Too weak to even wonder what that was.

The snow fell on his face he could no longer fight, he could feel himself slipping away. His heart ached as he saw a someone running to him. The last thing he would see was a vision of her, in her flowing dress walking gracefully to his side.  
I’m sorry, my lady… I failed… He exhaled deeply as his eyes fluttered shut and slipped into the dark.

But in the darkness he heard voices, familiar voices. Though he could not say where he knew them from.  
“Forget it, he’s dead.”  
“No, he’s alive! Hey! What are you doing with his sword?”  
“What? Do you have any idea how much his sword will sell for?”  
“You’re not having it, he’s alive. Help me.”  
“Fine.”  
What’s going on? Who are these people? Where are they taking me?! It was dark… so dark.  
“Hell’s he’s heavy!”  
“Oh shut up and lift.”  
He couldn’t open his eyes, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t feel anything! All he could do was listen.  
“Woaw I’m not doing that.”  
“Fine I’ll do it myself.”  
“No you’re not!”  
“Will you Just get out!”  
What is happening? His thoughts echoed loudly around him.

In the darkness a small light appeared, faint and small at first, but he felt drawn to it. It came closer, and it’s warm light was comforting in the dark. He could hear a woman’s voice singing softly, it was coming from the light. He’d never heard this melody before, it was beautifully enchanting, as though it was calling to him. Was this an divines angels calling to him out of the darkness? Or calling him to Sovngarde?  
He kept a short distance from the light. In fear it was the end. He took comfort listening to woman’s voice humming sweetly.

“Casavir…” His ear pricked up at hearing his name coming from the light.

I know that voice. He thought, strangely he couldn’t pinpoint where he had heard it before.

“…Please, wake up.” The voice whispered, he felt something soft and warm touch his cheek for a brief moment.

I can feel…! He gasped.  
The light shone brighter, blinding him and engulfing him in light. An agonising pain washed over him like boiling oil. He wanted to yell out in pain but nothing came, as the light ebbed and his was hit with the return on his senses. He could feel fabric on his clammy skin, his blood pumping in his veins like acid. His heartbeat thumping in his ears. The smell of tobacco and burning wood from a hearth. When he opened his eyes, he was in a bed. He was in Solitude, back in his rented room at the winking skeever.  
I’m alive! He sighed with a relief, the Gods did not abandon me.  
“Ugh” He groaned as a stinging pain slipped back and ebbed, like the waves on the shore. He looked around his room. His eyes still adjusting to the rays of light coming in from the window. He could hear people outside talking and getting on with their day to day lives.  
His armour sat on the chest at the side of the bed his sword was resting in the rack. He saw a jug next to him and he reached for it as he felt his overpowering thirst.

Stupidly he reached out and knocked it off the counter as it crashed to the floor, the sound of metal clanging on the wooden floor was deafening and the sharp shrill felt like someone shot an arrow through his head.  
How did I get here? He thought.

Lazily rolling around trying to sit himself up and he did his head began to spin like a top. He squinted his eyes to focus, he must have been sat there for a while, thinking hard about what happened.  
The cave, the poison, the wolves…. A bear. – Did I kill it? – No – there was someone else there… or something. What was tha…

The door opened making Casavir sluggishly lifted his head up at the door as a man walked in. His amber eyes coldly staring at him.  
“So… you’re up – shame I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t.” He groaned and crossed his arms as a wolf walked in and sniffed the air in the direction of Casavir.

“…Bishop?!” Casavir said confused, raspy voice. “What are you doing h-”  
Casavir’s froze as the Ranger’s companion clambered in through the small gap. Her hazel eyes twinkled with relief and joy as she clumsily barged into the room, pushing Bishop aside.

“Cas, you’re awake!”

Casavir had only dreamt of her soft and melodic voice but now winched his head as her beautiful voice was almost deafening. Yet he endured, stunned as she jumped on the bed and landed on her knees in front of him. It was her… his fair lady. She still wore that lovely smile and her eyes sparkled with pure beauty.

“M… my lady…?” Casavir stuttered, completely taken back by her sudden presence.  
I’m dead… I died on the mountain, that bear killed me and I’m dead. He thought.  
“How are you feeling Casi? I feared we had come too late.” She leant forward and reached out to touch his forehead. Her delicate palm sent a surge through him.

He immediately tensed up as he looked at his hands. They were shaking.

“Casavir?” She asked again when he didn’t reply. Casavir felt allot better now, The Gods had answered his prayers and had blessed him to once again stand… well sit in her presence.  
She had been his rescuer, it was her voice he had heard in the dark. She had come to his aid?

He felt elated and overwhelmed with the idea she cared enough to go looking for him. Then shame and embarrassment came crashing around him.  
What good am I if she has to save me? He thought. I failed…  
“My lady…” He croaked. She hopped off the bed and returned handing him a water skin, sitting back down on his bed.

“My lady… This is most embarrassing” He sighed after taking a few gulps.

He vowed to protect and prided himself by how strong and skilled he was. Yet here he was.  
“Well yes it is embarrassing.” Bishop shrugged slouching against the door. “And you think you could protect her out there? You can’t even protect yourself.” Bishop scoffed seeming rather proud of himself.

“Hey Bishop? Do us a favour and take a bath. You’re starting to smell.” She interrupted him.

“Uhh no, no I’m pretty sure that’s just you princess. Although your smell could have just rubbed off on me.” He winked with a wolfish grin.  
That insolent, obnoxious….little..! How dare he speak to her that way! Casavir’s blood began to boil with rage, agonising along with the acidic sting in his veins.

Casavir opened his mouth to speak in her defense but she had beat him to the punch.  
“Oh, fuck off Bishop!” She groaned unamused. Casavir’s jaw almost hit the floor – hearing such profanity coming from such an enchanting being.

“Or on! Anytime any place my dear!” Bishop laughed.  
That was it. That ranger would pay for his insolence, Casavir once again opened his mouth and began to pull the sheets off himself, not sure what he was going to do once he was up but he sure as hells knew he wouldn’t let Bishop get away with such insolence. But she already had it covered.  
“Ha! Oh Bishie you are cute when you TRY to be funny. But seriously, go make yourself useful – somewhere else.”

“Whatever!” Bishop growled at her referring to him as cute. He rolled his eyes and left the room with Karnwyr.  
Once they were alone she looked back at Casavir and smiled warmly at him, reaching over and pulling the sheets back over his exposed knee.

“Don’t let Bishop get to you. He’s not so bad when you get used to him.” She said with a tender smile.

Casavir stared at her. She completely baffled him. She was a good woman, kind and sweet, affectionate and caring. How? How could this creature be so resilient. to that savage! Allowing that man to even walk in her shadow, he wasn’t even worthy to breathing!

But then.. Am I worthy of walking in her shadow.  
“Casavir. What’s wrong?” Her voice sang sweetly to him. “You’re not sad because of the poison thing are you?”

Poison thing? She spoke of it as though it was a mundane problem. He had failed, he had cleared the cave, yes. But then had been brought to his knees only to be rescued by her. The one he swore he could protect.

“He’s right my lady.” He sighed deeply. “I… I failed – I was brought down by some mere poison. And wolves… a… and there was a bear…?”

“Drink.” She nudged the waterskin in his hands as she noticed his voice straining. He obeyed.  
“I’m making a new backpack with it’s hide.” She smirked. “And that MERE poison, was Jarrin root. Thank the gods it didn’t kill you instantly!” She said as she hopped off the bed and dipped a cloth in cold water and tried to pat his head.

“Don’t beat yourself up Cas, be thankful you’re still alive.” Her eyes were focused on the cloth she was patting gently over his brow.

“Uhh… please – allow me.” He said taking the cloth from her delicate hands and looking up at her with his crystal blue eyes. She smiled and let go of the cloth. Sitting back down at the foot of his bed as he placed it on his head and wiped the back of his neck.

She didn’t like the look in his eyes, as though he was punishing himself.

“We all fall from time to time Casavir – but it only teaches us to get back up – to learn from our mistakes.” She smiled warmly leaning in and placing her hands on both his shoulders, the muscles under his shirt were hard to dismiss, she felt her heart quicken and pulled away almost as quick as she placed them.  
He looked at her with a face flashing with emotion, unsure which one to feel but settled on amazement. He smiled nervously and bowed his head.

“Thank you my lady. I do not deserve your kindness.”

“Oh Casavir. You are worthy of so much more.” She smiled playfully, he replied with a nervous chuckle. Then he paused before he spoke again.  
“My lady?”

“Hmm?”

“Who… who removed my armour?…” He had to ask.

Praying it wasn’t her. When she didn’t reply he looked up to see her cheeky coy grin… Oh gods! He wanted the world to swallow him up.

“Bishop wouldn’t help! He said carrying you here was all he would do.” She tried to reassure him when she saw his face turn a deep crimson.

“I didn’t see anything! If that’s what’s bothering you? I was very precise in keeping your dignity.” She tried to give him comfort.

“No! No, my lady it’s just that… wait… Bishop? Bishop brought me here?” Casavir repeated her, in case he didn’t hear her correctly. She nodded.

“Cost me a bag of gold and six tankards of ale but it was worth it.” She nervously looking down at his hands holding the waterskin.

“…Well. It appears I have him to thank as well.” He shook his head in disbelief.  
They sat in peaceful silence for a moment until they heard a low grumbling coming from Casavir’s stomach he held his stomach glancing up at her. She giggled softly at this lovely innocent blue eyes and hurried downstairs and got him some food, he detested about her nursing him but he had no say in the matter. He was still too weak to get up and he was hungry. He tried his best to avert her efforts of tending to his bandages.

Thankfully she was respectful to his wishes so she allowed him to assistant, holding his finger on parts of the bandage and holding things for her she needed close at hand. Which he found rather amusing.

He was a very skilled healer, but his strength and his magicka and not yet returned. He could not properly heal himself until a later time. Until then it appeared he would have to rely on her nursing skills.  
Being in her company was so nerve-racking at first. But her bubbly and nurturing personality pulled him out of it and it became effortless to be in her presence. He had never felt like this before.

He personality was adorable and her laugh was infectious. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face, she made him feel more alive than he had felt in a long time.

The conversation went back and forth without any awkward silences. She would talk about the strangest things, things people would normally disregard but she was so observant. Her quick and dynamic way of thinking was very refreshing. He had missed her so much.  
Being with her felt so natural, like it was where he belonged.

Dare he dream he found his sanctuary, a place where he could rest his beaten and bruised soul. A place where he could live. Free from the nightmares and the sorrow he had endured. Such a feeling terrified him.

He did not wish to open up to another in such a way, once was enough. He feared his heart could not take another, but something about her made it almost impossible to resist.

 

The walls he built around him, that shielded and sheltered him turned from thick bouldering stone walls to parchment in her presence. He loved the way she smiled. Yet underneath her smile he could sense a sadness, almost mirroring his own… perhaps greater.

She did not look like the Dragonborn. Wielding the blood of a Dragon, he had expected a fierce and hardy warrior. He thought the Dovahkiin would have been… well…  
She was young, in her early twenties, average height for a Breton. Though she was not an average Breton, she was strikingly beautiful. Long brown hair that fell in waves and bled strands of gold which shone in the sunlight. And her eyes were a shade of green he had never seen before, sprinkled with golden earthy tones, they were mesmerizing.

He couldn’t help notice from her clothes and the dress she had chosen for the ball, she was a full figured, curvy beauty. Wonderful wide hips and full delicious….

God’s forgive me… he pushed back those illicit thoughts.  
“Well. It’s late. I’ll let you get some rest.” She gave him a playful smile and gracefully walked to the door. He didn’t really want her to go, he wanted her to stay with him, to hold her close and tightly in his arms. He could not deny the fact that he had missed her so much. He was afraid if she walked out of that door then he’d wake in the morning and this would have been all a dream.  
“My lady? May I ask you how long you will be staying in Solitude?” He asked with a cautious edge to his voice.

“Until you are well again.” She replied.

He nodded and looked down at his hands, his thumbs rubbing the rim of his cup. Then I wish I never recover to my full strength, he thought.  
“Now, c’mon. Drink your tea and get to bed.” She ordered in a mothering tone. He nodded and put his empty cup down. Looking up at her to what he thought could be the last time.

“Goodnight Casi.” She grinned leaning against the door. He chuckled shaking his head with a nervous smile.

Where normally he would have frowned and disapproved of being given a nickname, he would graciously accept this one.

“Goodnight my lady.” He replied politely.  
She went into her room and started to get ready for bed. Stripping off her trousers and leaving her large undershirt on, she sat herself on the edge of the bed and rummaged through her bag for her comb to tame her wild locks.

She immediately felt a presence in the room. She knew it was Bishop – it was always Bishop.  
“So… I guess you’re hoping I’ll stick around once we have the Paladin added to the party.” Bishop said as he laid himself out on the bed.

“That’s your call Bishop, not mine.”

“I don’t understand why you want him with us. You don’t need him, you’ve done fine on your own so far.” Bishop groaned.

“That may be so, but I think we can benefit from having his skills with us.” She replied.

“Really?… well then I gu-”

“Bishop! Just go to bed will you. I’m too tired for this.” She snapped.

She sat in the awkward silence that suddenly fell in the room. She heard Bishop sigh deeply before leaving again making it known with an almighty slam of her door.  
What did it matter if Bishop left? He was a thorn in her side ever since Casavir appeared.

Ever since the crystal ball, Bishop became controlling and possessive over everything she did.  
Yet she enjoyed his company. His wicked ideas and volatility was in ways attractive to her. His heart was in the right place… sometimes.

But her mind has always wandered back to the Paladin sat alone in the winking skeever. She couldn’t help feel something towards Casavir, something about him gave her calm. Something she craved. Something she needed. Now more than ever.  
All her life she had felt out of place, now she understood why… she was dragonborn.

A blessing and a curse.

Ever since she became the Dragonborn people treat her differently. She always felt lost and alone even with Bishop by her side. But… Casavir.

He treat her like no one had ever treat her. She was strong and independent but it was nice to walk alongside someone who would open doors for you, treat you like a lady should be. Respectful and courteous. Being ruggedly handsome was just meant he was also good eye candy.  
Oh Gods sake girl!

What? Don’t you deny it. You felt those rippling muscles under that shirt.

He’s a paladin!

A hot paladin.  
She rolled around her bed in frustration. She wasn’t going to argue with that.

When she walked into Solitude that day, she was tired, weary from her travels and battered by her responsibilities.

She was filthy and was in desperate need of a soft bed and a hot meal.

She went straight to the inn and got a room, desperate to have her own space away from Bishop.

After renting a room she had a bath and dressed in her lounge clothes. She headed off buy new supplies and sell some of the items she had picked up on her travels.  
That was when she saw him, he did stand out from all the other people around him. He was talking to a group of Solitude guards and he stood out like a sore thumb. Though she thought nothing of it and went straight to Bits and pieces. But once she came out, being naturally curious person she slowed and allowed a longer time to observe the strange man.

The first thing she noticed was how tall he was, tall like a Nord and held himself like an imperial.

His clean cut, well groomed appearance caught her attention next. Nothing like the hardy Nords or any locals to Skyrim. He was definitely a foreigner. Taking a slower pace until she ground to a halt, examining him. She then noticed the well crafted strange armour he was wearing – she’d never seen anything like it before.

Who is this guy? She thought.  
She then looked up to see him looking over at her. She froze in her boots, she didn’t want to look away but she felt rather uncomfortable staring at a stranger from across the street.

Then she realised he was making his way over, looking straight at her. When he drew closer she realised he was Breton… by the God’s he was tall!

For a Breton that is…

He was tall, coal black hair and very, VERY handsome. Holy hells he was handsome!  
She remembered having the urge to run, then the urge to hide. Why? She had done nothing wrong.

He fashioned a pleasant close lipped smile that did not seem to reach his eyes. Hells, his deep and timbering voice caught her by surprise, it was so bassy and felt like warm honey.

She was surprised he had been looking for her, he actually wanted to help her? She didn’t have to pay him or do any favours?

She was sure it was a joke when he asked her to the Grand Crystal Ball. Like a commoner such as herself would ever be seen attending the legendary Crystal Ball. Yet… he seemed sincere.  
The Grand Crystal ball was one of the best experiences of her life. She had declined his offer at first, having just met him and all… though after a good night’s sleep and deep consideration she returned to him to accept his offer.

Who knows! She’d never been to a ball before and she was up for trying everything once… within her limits of course!  
Though she felt awkward at first in her dress, she didn’t dare look at herself in the mirror. She wanted to use her invisibility spell to hide when onlookers stared at her when she left the gown shop.

She was so on edge….

What are they gawking at?

Am I wearing this right?

Have I got something on my dress?  
They walked to the ball with her arm looped around his, she felt comforted, calm with him, she was relieved when he admitted he was a little nervous too.

But… she loved the experience. Getting away from reality for a while, to forget her responsibilities and be surrounded by fine gowns and luxurious music. It was what she needed. To forget, even for just the night.  
She smiled climbing into bed and tossed and turned till she finally drifted to sleep. Dreaming of her night at the ball with her tall, charming and out of the ordinary Paladin.


	2. Dragon's Care

“May I have this dance, My lady?”

Casavir broke her free of the awkward conversation with a group of nobles who asked for her opinion on the war. The war was pathetic, and she wasn’t afraid of making her opinion known on the matter.  
“Yes. You may.” She smiled thankfully as he grabbed her hand gently and guided her onto the dance floor.

He turned to face her and held his hand up to her to take, his hand rested on her waist making her gulp hard and suppress a nervous giggle.  
“Casavir?”

“Yes my lady?” He replied with a soft rumble of his voice.

“I have a confession to make.” She bit her lip and looked up as he raised an elegant brow.

“I don’t know how to waltz…” She confessed feeling rather awkward now in the centre of the ballroom around people who clearly knew what they were doing. He nodded and with a calmness in his eyes.  
“Would you like me to teach you? Or you could stand on my feet?” He asked with a warm polite smile, she giggled nervously and shook her head.

“No. Teach me Casavir.” She smiled noticing the first rosy tinge building his those lovely cheeks and the shy smile he tried to suppress.

He was so patient with her, she must have tripped over his feet and her own so many times she lost count.

Eyes were on them, the mighty Dragonborn and the Paladin dancing together. Both considered very powerful and rare beings. She could feel the pressure and where normally she would either get stressed or just give up and do her own thing, she found herself being completely calm in his arm – even if she felt like she had four legs and didn’t know where to put any of them. The last trip startled her and he pulled her tightly into him so she wouldn’t tumble.  
“Are you sure you don’t want to stand on my feet, My lady?” He whispered to her.

“No way Casavir, I am learning this dance even if it means I have to trip over a thousand times.”

She felt his laugh rattle behind his chest plate, it was a wonderful thundering sound which made her blush.

She distracted herself by practising on her footing, she was getting the hang of it now, and it only took two or three songs.  
“I think I’ve got it now.” She beamed a charming broad smile up at him. She was so proud of herself, she loved to dance and now she could waltz like a pro!

“Not bad for commoner. Eh?” She joked wriggling her eyebrows.

Casavir raised an amused eyebrow and smiled. “Being common has nothing to do with it, my lady.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and laughed. They danced to a few more songs, she was amazed how quickly she mastered the waltz. But when she considered it, she had a knack for mastering a skill quickly.  
The music stopped and people applauded the musicians which she observed then copied.

People began leaving the dance floor and only a few remained, she took Casavir’s hand as he guided her away to sit down and rest for a while.  
The next song was more powerful and thundered in the room as the onlookers began to clap. She was a little bemused and watched intently from the side a couple dancing wildly together to the drums and Jouhikko.

Watching them move was inspiring, almost like a close and passionate dance between fire and water.  
“Do you think you could teach me that one?” She asked leaning into Casavir who was sat beside her. She suppressed a shiver as he tried to control a rumbling guffaw in his throat. She was surprised how surreal his laugh was, his voice alone was alluring but his chuckle was. Well… if he wasn’t a paladin…  
Behave lass!  
“Perhaps another time my lady.” He smiled. She turned to him as was immediately caught in his flint blue eyes looking down at her.

The stoic and hard facade he put on when they first met was fading and she caught a glimmer of warmth was behind his eyes, as though it cautiously stepping into the light.  
Oh wow…. She thought, giving him a sultry smile.  
He quickly cleared his throat with a smile as his eyes returned to their calming rippling pools.  
“Can we go outside?” She asked as she leant on further and whispered to Casavir. “I’m in need of some fresh air.” She subtly pointed to the large leering noble who had clear had enough to drink.  
Casavir nodded and stood holding his hand out for her to take. He was so sweet, she was unsure what to do sometimes, she had never experienced such chivalry. She could see many of the women admiring him for the strapping handsome man he was.  
I bet he know’s… I bed he’s really vain and spends hours getting ready. She thought.

She smirked, trying to find a flaw in the man.

They reached the open window to a stone blacony onlooking the Ocean.

She stepped ahead taking two silver cups of spiced wine from a waitress as she embraced the icy wind and chilled her instantly, her eyes fixed on the night sky.

The sky was lit up with an array of oranges and pinks, glittered with the twinkling stars.  
“Look at that for a view! Isn’t it beautiful!” She sighed sitting herself down on the stone wall. She breathed in the cold night air and exhaled a puff of steam into the night sky.

“It is extraordinary.” He agreed. “We do not have skies like this where I come from.”  
She smiled looking over at Casavir who was holding a linen cloak in his hands. He held it up as if gesturing for her permission to put it on her, which she nodded.

She quickly glanced at the strange Paladin as he stood by her and looked up at the night sky.  
She was mesmerised by his height, he held himself with a respected calm. He was tall and proud, his face cool and reserved.

Yet the the creases in his brow from constant frowning of a stressful life. And wrinkles creased on the corners of his eyes from years of smiling and laughter.  
There was a sadness in his eyes, it was faint and he guarded it well but she had detected it when they first met.  
She felt drawn to him, he wasnt the kind of man she normally went for but she was hooked by his deep resonating voice and the challenge of getting to know him better.

She was tempted to touch those wonderful chiseled features, run her fingers along his cheek and kiss them. He looked so tasty… but she instead clung to the linen cloak around her.  
“I want to know more about you?” She tilted her head to the side with a curious smile.

His lips curled upwards as he turned to face her.

“Well… being a holy knight. I must maintain my vows, constantly upholding the calls of virtue and light.” He replied.

She raised an eyebrow briefly. This sounded rehearsed.

Not what she really wanted to know but ok…

“Such as?” She urged for more.  
“I must pray to keep a pure life. Dedicated to honor and justice.” He explained and paused as he averted his eyes from her curious gaze. “I must never succumb to worldly temptation.”  
She let her mind ponder for a moment, worldly temptation. She decided to press further.

“So… is that why you can’t drink?” She asked.

“I can, but i must not allow it impair me.” He replied. She smiled and handed him a cup.

He held it in his hands unsure on what to do with it.  
“What about…” She paused, did she dare ask? “So… you can never be intimate with a woman?” She asked it, she couldn’t believe it. However it had interested her.

Bishop had teased saying he can’t deny his manhood and how she was going to make his blood boil.  
She watched as he blushed a deep red from the neck of his armour to the tip of his well groomed hair. God’s how adorable!

“You’re blushing Casavir.” She giggled, she was rather enjoying getting such a noble knight hot under the collar.  
He was wonderfully adorable. Such a sweet and suave gentleman, yet she sensed a deep underlying passion behind those steel blue eyes. But perhaps that was a bit too forward for their first meeting. Though it did not truly answer her question she respectfully decided not to press further.

“That I am.” He gave a nervous breath as if suppressing a laugh. “I must apologise my lady.”  
“No need to apologise Casavir. I’ve never been intimate with a woman either.” She joked, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. Making him look up with a puzzled yet amused expression.  
“Sorry, I should have warned you about my strange sense of wit.” She apologised. Not many people understood her sense of humour, or her way of thinking.

He laughed nervously as he held his cup to his chest never raising it to his lips.

“I find your humor rather… refreshing. If i’m honest, my lady.” He replied the blush in his cheeks beginning to ebb.

She smiled broadly and jumped back up to her feet walking towards him and clipping their cups together before she took a sip while holding his gaze.  
“Shall we return to the dance, my lady?” He asked putting down his cup and gesturing to the open archway of swirling gowns and sweet enchanting music. She nodded and walked with him back to the ball.

She was having such a great time, Casavir was a real gentleman and truly a gentle man.  
Casavir had an aura around him that radiated strength even though his face often carried an expression of solitude.

It was obvious Casavir took his status as a paladin very seriously and maintained a dignified and sophisticated air to him. He was so polite, measured and calm in speech and body language.

She found herself being drawn into him, he was very interesting to the fun loving and mellow Dragonborn. Perhaps he was his Paladin charms, or his statuesque good looks – whatever it was – she found his calming aura very enticing.

Yet her adventurous side could see something lurking in the shadows behind his eyes – a sort of sadness.

 

A soft chiming song came on, sharp tings of a finely polished chimes and the harp and the lute played sweetly. The music was spellbindingly beautiful. She looked over at Casavir who was smiling warmly with an outstretched hand.

“You may.” She replied before he could say a word. Her playful, bubbly side was softening and being soothed by him, the cooling waves of Casavir eased her as he again took her by the hand and made their way to the dance floor.  
“Are you enjoying yourself my lady?” He asked.

“I am. I have to admit I didn’t think I would. I thought I looked rather silly in this little get up.” She smirked.

“You look stunning my lady.” He smiled as he gracefully spun her around.

“Oh casavir, you shouldn’t constantly compliment me. I’ll get a big head.” She rolled her eyes playfully and laughed, she felt his hand grip her a little tighter as she laughed.

“I speak only truth my lady.” He replied with a deep throated chuckle. She averted her eyes when she felt a flurry of butterflies in her stomach when he looked at her. Now it was her turn to blush.  
“My lady, I wish to thank you for joining me tonight.” He said in his baritone voice, his cheeks held their rosy blush as he spoke. “Tonight would have been rather dull if I did not had not reconsidered my request.”

“Well I’m glad I reconsidered.” She smiled placing a hand on his arm as she spoke.

“I needed a break, and I truly feel that I have had one.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” He smiled a very charming warm smiled which exposed his pearly white teeth, he hadn’t smiled like that all night, it shocked her. Her quick wit and Vivacious personality disappeared and left she like a quivering milkmaid in his arms.  
God’s help me…  
She turned her head to escape the overwhelming emotion that was welling inside her. She could see a couple dancing beside her, wearing a beautiful dress that flowed in ripples as her partner swung her around. Her dance partner was dressed in armour and was looking at her so lovingly.  
Wow, what a lovely couple. She thought.  
Wait… that’s my dress…. And that’s Casavir…!  
“Is that me?!” She gasped, her eyes fixed in awe at the dancing beauty in the glass reflection.

“Yes, my lady.” He chuckled.

The night sky had turned the glass into a mirror as she could see herself properly.

She hadn’t been able to admire herself in her glory, she didn’t actually dare look until now. The moment she put on the dress she felt stupid but looking at her reflection.

But now, she felt beautiful… for once in her life, she…  
“I’m here my darling!” A voice distracted her and made her turn to the hand gripping her arm. “Don’t mind if i cut in do you?” He purred with a hint of wicked gleam in his golden eyes.  
Bishop? What? What is he doing?!  
No… no, no, no!

_______________________________  
Casavir smiled when he woke in the morning to find breakfast and a tea by his bedside.

“My lady.” He grinned. It hadn’t been a dream.

Sitting up he pulled the sheets off and gingerly swung his legs round to the edge of the bed. He couldn’t stand another minute bound to the bed, he needed to move about. He took a few deep breaths to prep himself and slowly rose to his feet and took his time getting his balance.

Damn poison, Silly how poison could affect one in such a way.  
He started with baby steps, just walking back and forth from his bed to the wall was a good start. After he was a little more confident in his balance, he took the plate and sat at the window to eat his breakfast looking out at the people down below.

How he had missed the warm and welcoming rays of the sun. He loved watching the city teeming with life. The people of skyrim were quite different from his homeland. Skyrimians were strong and hardy, proud and enduring. When provoked they were as fierce warriors and as rugged as the land itself.  
He was so tempted to explore Skyrim alone, even though he had almost got himself killed on the first attempt he would not let that deter him. But he didn’t want to wander too far in case she would return for his sword.  
Then he saw her, leaving the apothecary carrying her fur bag filled to the brim with new supplies. Even though she was surrounded by locals and travellers alike, and wasn’t wearing anything that would differentiate her from the crowd she seemed to stand out to him. Like a candle burning brightly in the darkest of nights.

She walked around the town struggling with all her supplies and no one was offering to help.

Such arrogant people, he frowned. Chivalry clearly was unheard of in Skyrim.

Even with her scrabbling she didn’t seem to be fazed and smiled happily.

Nothing like the stressed gloomy expression she wore when they first met.  
Even then he thought she was rather beautiful… and when she turned up for the ball, wearing her gown he was stunned.

The way the dress clung to her lovely figure, breathing elegance and grace. How it brushed along the ground almost giving the effect of her floating. The way she walked, her hips gently swaying with each step, she was a goddess.

He felt his heart swell at the thought and then a sharp pain shot him.  
No, I can’t be thinking like that. He told himself. Refusing to give into such feelings, he would never succumb to those emotions again, never would he allow himself to be hurt like that.  
She was strange to him, all his life he had grown up watching and serving people who held themselves with dignity and forever poised. She was the opposite to all he knew. She was such a sprightly being, he found her very fascinating.

He was curious. Why is she back in Solitude? It had been weeks since the ball.

He did not dare ask her, if fear of getting his hopes up that she may have come back to ask for him. No… that wild animal had his claws dug deeply into her.  
He hated how powerless he felt, seeing that… that… he couldn’t find a word to describe Bishop. The way he was corrupting her, how she turned hardy and seemed to have her guard up constantly with that ranger.  
She was walking back to the inn, with a joyful spring in her step. He felt another flutter as his chest, seeing her again.

She was beautiful. He quickly drove the feeling away before he could consider it.

She looked up at the window and saw him looking out. Giving him the biggest smile she hurried back to the inn.  
Oh bloody hells, he thought.

He hurried to make himself more presentable as he knew he would be having company very sho-

A knock came on the door, he looked at himself in the mirror to check himself down. He looked terrible, his hair was ruffled and he was growing a beard.

No time to shave, he sighed rubbing the coarse hairs on his face.

“Come in.” He said after being sure he had adjusted his trousers and shirt to look more suitable.

She shuffled into the room with her hands still occupied with her bag.

“Oh, let me help you.” Casavir strode over to assist but the sudden movement made his head spin and he faltered.  
“Woah!” He heard her gasp, then a crash of something hitting the floor. Suddenly she was against him, steadying him as he held to the bed post for support.

“Easy Casi. You can’t go prancing around just yet!” She jested as she held onto him, her small feminine hands pressed against his first chest.

He felt incredibly warm in the face, her body was so slight against him, he could feel her now, her touch, her body her against his body. The awareness was as tight as a bowstring.

He hadn’t had anybody so close since…

“Casavir?… Are you alright?” She asked.  
He looked down at her. Oh he wished he hadn’t. Those gorgeous eyes shone a bright emerald as they stared back at him. Full of concern and compassion, Oh Gods.

His racing heart came to a thundering halt, she was so beautiful. His heart swelled so much it hurt.

What’s happening to me? He asked himself, as if someone would answer.  
“I… I’m fine my lady, just lost my balance.” He smiled nervously. Gulping hard on the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be up and walking just yet. I thought I was seeing things when I saw you at the window.” They both shared a brief and awkward laugh. “C’mon sit down and rest.” She ordered him.  
“I’ll be alright, my lady. I feel like I’ve been sat for far too long.” He replied as he regained himself and she took a cautious step back. When she was happy he was alright she went to pick her things off the floor. He knelt down also to help her pick up some of the mess.

“I’m sorry my lady. I didn’t mean for-”

“Don’t. I will not accept an apology where it is not needed.” She said with a mothering tone with a cheeky glimmer in her eyes.  
He gave her a quick nod and looked down at his hands. Why are they shaking? He thought. Why does this woman have this effect on me? He couldn’t help but blush, hiding his face away. Every time she gave him that look he always felt butterflies in his stomach. He picked up a few items that had rolled out of her bag and handed them to her.  
“Still my lady… this is rather embarrassing… I appear to have made a fool of myself yet again and it seems to be becoming a habit.” He murmured deeply.

She giggled and stuffed the last of her supplies in her bag. “You wanna talk embarrassing?” She began with a smirk.

“Try getting up on a table and doing the Hammerfell Haka after one too many ales.”

He looked up at her rather puzzled, she grimaced at the thought.

“Yeeeeah…. not one of my finest moments.” She shuddered at the memory.  
“So… I trust you feel a little better?” She beamed, she clung to the bag with both hands.

“Much better, thanks to you my lady.” He stood up and gave her a smile with a furrowed brow in confusion.

“Forgive me, but… what’s the Hammerfell Haka?” He asked “Is it a fighting technique?”

With that she burst into a nervous laugh that chimed through the room, it shocked him but he could not help a smile that formed on his lips when he heard it. He had missed her laughter.

“It’s a… a dance. Though I do think it could work to ward off some bandits or creeps.” She replied after her laughter had calmed and she took a deep breath, still rather rosy on her face.  
She walked over to the table and put her bag on a chair as she looked through. Pulling out of some vials.

“I made you some potions. I noticed you didn’t have any cure poison ones and well… ” she shrugged and placed them on the table. He stared down at them for a while, unsure what to say.  
“My lady, you are most kind… but you shouldn’t have…” Casavir spoke as politely as ever still staring down at the vials.

She stood and smiled admiring his puzzled and innocent expression. Even in normal clothes he stood out, his large frame and broad shoulders. With his rugged stubble and chiselled features, he was breathtaking, such a shame he was a Paladin. He looked like a foreigner, he did not look at all like he hailed from Skyrim – or even Tamriel. His strong and virtuous aura along with his posture screamed nobility or high ranked in some field.  
“But I made them myself.” She replied with a sad childish whine. His eyes snapped up to hers in utter bewilderment.

“But….My lady, I already owe you a debt. One which you refuse me to repay. Surely this is… this is making my debt greater to you…” He stuttered. Her kindness shocked him.

She smirked, resting her palms on the table and leaning forward with a quirky grin on her lips.

“Well Paladin, you’re going to need these.” She said.

Casavir looked at her confused that she called him Paladin… but when he saw her grin he couldn’t help let a smile form on his own lips.  
“I came back to Solitude… because I would like to take you up on your offer… if it still stands, of course.” She said pushing herself up off the table and pacing the room, with a wary smile.

“M.. my offer?” He questioned, uncertain if she was referring to the offer of him accompanying her on her journeys.

“You know… to travel with me?” She smiled with a cute grin.

Casavir’s puzzled frown fell and his lips parted slightly as he gawked at her. Casavir couldn’t believe his ears, it took a while for him to register her words as he stared at her blankly.

She wanted him? To travel with her?! Thank the Gods!  
“My lady, I cannot describe how happy I am that you have accept my offer. I would be honoured to join you on your travels.”

“Good – now would you mind standing back up… please.”  
Wha?…  
Casavir had without thinking knelt before her. He didn’t even realise he had done it. It must have been the wave of emotions that flew into him at that moment.

“Of course, my lady. Forgive me.” He blushed with a handsome smile he could not withdraw from his face.

He felt rather foolish with such a boyish grin that he couldn’t control. She laughed and patted his shoulder as she noticed his attempts.  
Casavir offered her a seat and they sat down at the table. He tried so hard to shake the surge of excitement that ran rampant in him from her touch.

Pull yourself together man, he scolded himself.

They sat and had breakfast together while Casavir listened intently as she talked about how her travels had brought her to cross paths with the blades. A group of legendary warriors who fought dragons back in the days when they once roamed. Now the dragon’s had returned they had not only caused the awakening of a Dovahkiin but also had caused the Blades to reappear.  
They stayed in Solitude until he was back to fighting form. She was keen on seeing him in battle, though she was worried to place in that situation. She did have the underlying worry of seeing him laying almost dead in the snow again. But that was due to poison – and not just any poison. He had been poisoned by one of the most deadly poisons in all of Nirn – and survived! How was that even possible?!

She accompanied Casavir to the Blue Palace so he could inform Falk Firebeard that the cave had been cleared and the threat had been eradicated. Casavir was handed a large bag full of gold which he tried to refuse but Falk was insistent he took it. With the gold he went shopping with his lady, buying supplies he would need for their travels. That was when she presented him with the bear fur backpack she had the blacksmiths assistant work on.

Bishop refused to sit with them during their stay in Solitude and instead lurked in the shadows of the tavern. On the last night Casavir came down to find Bishop had got downstairs before him and was clearing making a claim on her. Even though Casavir had thanked Bishop, he clearly wasn’t happy about Casavir joining the party. She had spoken to Casavir about travelling with Bishop. Casavir was wary of her decision at first but at least he could watch over her.  
The morning came when they were ready to be back on the road. They walked down out to the stables, this was it. Off on his adventure – a new beginning. A fresh start.

He was so happy to be travelling with her. He did not realize he was admiring her as she walked ahead until he saw Bishops menacing glare staring straight back at him.  
“Will you be passing Whiterun?” She asked the Carriage driver as he was loading his goods.

“Of course, that’s where all this is going to.” He replied. “You need a ride?”

She nodded and pulled out her coin purse. “Do you have room for three?”  
“My lady, May I make a suggestion?” Casavir stepped forward before she could pass the coins.

“… Ok, sure.” She paused.

“I would not want you to pay my fare in our travels. I have a horse my lady. I could ride in alongside the carriage if you wish.”

“You have a horse?!” She exclaimed, he nodded. He could feel Bishop bristle as she smiled at Casavir.  
“Ok, well I suppose it would save us some gold.” She shrugged with and pleasant smile.  
Casavir smiled and hurried off to get his horse, she climbed up into the cart with Bishop and Karnwyr and watched Casavir walk off to the stables. She was glad she came back for him, she had missed his calm and refined nature.  
The Carriage set off down the road heading past Dragonsbridge, the small village was in sight when she saw Casavir come cantering on his horse after them. her heart fluttered when she saw the mighty Paladin drawing closer.

I’m such a lucky girl! She smiled like the cat that got the creme.

“Here comes tin can man!” Bishop sneered when he also saw him. She turned and frowned disapproving as he grinned back.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her Paladin who was coming closer. His horse was pure white as snow. Wow, she thought.

The horse seemed to just polish off the mighty Knight look.

“well you took your time.” She teased as he came trotting along the cart.

“My apologies. I needed to get my horse saddled.” He said leaning slightly forward and rubbing his horses neck.

“it’s fine, your here now.” she smiled.

“So, Princess. Now we have the pumped up Paladin in the party – What’s next on our agenda?” Bishop jumped in the conversation.

“Pumped up?! Why you childish, disrespectful -!”

“To High Hrothgar!”


	3. On our way

“Wow Ladyship, you have him whipped already.” Bishop laughed mockingly as Casavir went ahead of the cart to clear the road after the bear encounter.  
“… Still not going to tell me about the bad blood between you two – are you?” She replied making Bishop groan in annoyance.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Why should I?” He replied, playing with his knife, making it dance around in his hands with quick movements of his fingers.

“Because!” She scowled. Bishop didn’t reply. He just looked over at her with his ‘don’t care’ grin.

“What? Is it some tragic love story or something?” She teased making an attempt to wean out the answer. Bishop laughed at her attempted taunts and shook his head.  
“You could say that.” Bishop replied, catching her off guard she stared blankly at him. There was a long pause while she registered his response.

“… So. umm… you and… Casavir…?”

“WOAH! NO! Not like that! Fucking hells!” Bishop spat in disgust.

“What?! you said it!” She argued awkwardly. Feeling herself cringing at the sudden awkward situation.

“Not me and him you creep!” He snapped. “God’s! Not sure I want to know what goes on in your head anymore.”

“Well how was I supposed to know!” She snapped in annoyance. She folded her arms and looked out into the distance to escape the sudden awkward conversation.  
It wasn’t unheard of – same sex relations. How was she supposed to take that response?!

Stupid Bishop. She grumbled.

She was so embarrassed now, but a part of her was relieved. For a moment there, she felt her heart sink when she thought of the Paladin preferring men’s company. But then… What did Bishop mean?  
“You should already know I don’t swing that way princess.” He growled. She stayed silent looking out at the passing trees. Pulling out a piece of lavender from her pocket to play with. She heard the bench creek beside her and the pressure of Bishop’s aura just inches away from her back as he loomed beside her. His fingers brushed aside her sun kissed cinnamon waves to expose her neck.

“You know I have my eyes on a much better target.” His hot breath tickled in her ear.  
“I know you have your eyes on anything that moves, Bishop!” She flinched away.

“Ha! Nope, when it comes to women, I’m very particular.” He laughed. She rolled her eyes and sat up looking over him in the direction they were heading. Casavir was trotting ahead of the cart, his horse was Skyrimian breed. Strong and resilient, it needed to be to be able to carry such a large heavy armoured Paladin and a handful of supplies.  
“Look at how hard he’s trying to impress you. Flashing his horse and galloping off like that.” Bishop mocked, looking in the same direction as her. The resentment for the Paladin was thick on his words.

“He’s scouting ahead, Bishop. Seriously? Why are you so jealous?”

“Jealous?! Of that ponzi, rackety tin man? HA! Don’t make me laugh!” He snapped. She clicked the roof of her mouth in annoyance as she looked out into the distance she felt Bishop draw closer again.  
“Do you think we’re still going to have the stealthy approach now we have him clattering about with us?” Bishop asked as his wandered around her waist. She let out a deep sigh and shuffled away from him as she continued to look out into the distance.

“Oi! Ladyship! I’m talking to you!” Bishop snapped again. He yanked her, swinging her round to face him and pressing his brow against hers as his golden eyes fiercely stared at her.

She didn’t say a word, his fierce glare made her feel like a trapped rabbit. His hot breath rolled off her cheeks and caressed her lips. Heart racing to match a galloping stallion as his hand gripped the back of her head.

“… You’re trembling princess…” Bishop’s grinned wickedly.

 

“My lady?” Casavir’s deep voice and a horses nicker distracted them, making Bishop glare up at Casavir who was now by their side returning the same cold stony expression at Bishop. Holding the hilt of his dagger on his hip. It was clear he didn’t approve of Bishop’s advances.

“Yes?!” She pushed Bishop back and looked up at Casavir.

“I just spotted someone acting suspicious in the hills ahead. I fear they may have been a scout of some kind.” He said turning his attention back to her.

“Most likely, could be an ambush ahead.” She said as she thought aloud. Playing to the piece of lavender now crumpled in her hand.

“Would you like me to investigate my lady?”

“No!” She spurted louder that she had wished. He seemed rather taken back by this and watched her as she recollected herself.

“I… I mean… just stay with the carriage. If it is an ambush we need to stay together and protect the driver.” She quickly recovered.

“I would greatly appreciate that lass.” The driver spoke.

“…Very well.” Casavir bowed his head. Returning his stare back to Bishop who was picking up his bow and climbing around the cart.  
“Wait, where you going?” She asked.

“Hunting.” Bishop replied coldly. “C’mon boy.” He whistled to Karnwyr.

“Fine. Just don’t get yourself killed.” Bishop scoffed at her and hopped off the back of the cart. She watched as he ran off into the trees along with his wolf, almost completely vanishing in the shadows.  
She turned back round, sort of relieved to be rid of the Ranger for a while. Those last few moments had become rather intense and she needed a moment of calm. Casavir had been right on cue.

She turned back round and got herself comfortable on the mounds of furs the driver was transporting. It was quiet yet she could feel the Paladin’s unease. She looked up to see him still staring out to where Bishop had disappeared with a look of concern.

  
“You saw. Didn’t you?” She broke the silence.

“Forgive me. It’s just… well, you already know of my concerns about the ranger.” He replied hesitantly, giving a sigh as he turned his attention to the road ahead.

“Don’t worry Casavir, I can handle Bishop. I’ve been travelling with him for a long time now and he’s proved to be a great ally. He just likes to tease.” She reassured him.

The Paladin hated to admit it, but she was right. Bishop was an amazing tracker and knew the land well. He was a well skilled archer and could become one with the shadows when he needed to, a very useful skill she undoubtedly needed.

She had learnt a lot from him. Her and Bishop had traveled through most of Skyrim together, watched out for one another, guarded one another, drank together, laughed together, argued. They both shared their stories over campfire or a cask of ale, she had an certain understanding about him that the Paladin just couldn’t see. Yet Bishop would not tell her the story between himself and Casavir.

Perhaps I could ween it out of Casavir? She contemplated. Maybe if she got him comfortable, waited til his guard was down and was more open.

She smiled gleefully at Casavir who just gave her a nod of his head, his thick brows furrowed accompanied with a wavering smile.

“Of course, my lady.” He replied.  
Casavir traveled close to the cart, he was glad he had come over to the cart when he did. He didn’t know what was happening when he came over but he knew he didn’t like it. Tease? She called that teasing? That brute was practically all over her! I should have stuck my knife his neck, or cut off his ear! But then what would she think of Casavir then? Something he hated about that Ranger was his impertinence. What gave him the right to be so forward with her, he had none! Yet she seemed to be unaffected by him, as though she accepted his advances. Some reason that irritated him. Why didn’t his insolence upset her? Anger her? It was as though it had never happened.  
“So!” She said sparking a conversation. “What do you think of Skyrim so far?”

Casavir couldn’t refuse himself a grin as one glowed on hers.

“From what I have witnessed as of now. It is very beautiful. Cold… but beautiful.” He replied, thankful for the change of subject. Too much of Bishop could turn anyone’s stomach, his voice alone sure shriveled Casavir’s gut.

“Well you best get used to the cold, we’re heading to High Hrothgar. The tallest mountain in Skyrim. Have you heard of it?” She asked as she offered him a drink from her water skin, he shook his head politely.

“I have done quite allot of research into Skyrim as I was travelling here. I did read a traveler’s guide to Skyrim and I had heard of the legendary structure. It is rather fascinating and it is impressive how such a structure still stands after all these years.”

“… You read a traveler’s guide?” She beamed, her hazel eyes twinkled with amusement. He nodded, understanding how daft it sounded.

“I understand it sounds rather doltish, but I thought it would give me a broader understanding of this land.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s good you do your research about the land and its people.” She waved a hand batting away his comment. “Do you still have it?” She asked.  
He nodded and ruffled in his bag to find it just as Bishop came running back, his smug grin replaced with one of slight panic, splattered in blood which wasn’t his own.

“We’ve got company!” Bishop yelled climbing back onto the cart.

“How many?” She asked, readying herself for battle.

“That many.” Bishop pointed at the swarm of bandits coming out of the tees where Bishop had just appeared.

“Tin can man was right, it was a scout.” Bishop said firing an arrow and taking one down.

“So you lured them here?!”

“You really kicked the hornets nest, Bishop!” She sighed.

“They were already heading this way. Probably here to rob the Paladin’s fancy armour!”

“Ok stop! Both of you! We’ve got work to do.” She ordered, her sweet and carefree nature diminished and she became the hardened battle warrior Casavir had expected to walk through those gates a month ago.  
Arrows, spells and blood flew through the air. The sound of metal clashing together filled the air along with the sounds of battle. Bishop shot down the archers at a distance. Casavir charged with his horse and took down most of the bandits who were coming over. Quickly dismounting and attacking on foot.

She was using her conjured bow to aid Bishop and runes to protect the cart and the driver. Glancing over at the Paladin who was at the heart of the battle, fighting fearlessly against his foes. His fighting style was strong, well calculated like he already had his next attack planned. His sword seemed to dance around him as he followed it’s momentum of the large heavy blade as he danced through the battle. She saw an orc come from behind wielding a nasty looking battle axe ready to strike down the unsuspecting Paladin.

She gasped and aimed her bow, sending an arrow through the air and into the orc’s neck. Casavir turned just in time to see him fall, he looked over quickly and gave her a thankful nod before throwing the man down to the ground he had he restraining.

When Casavir turned to meet her watchful gaze, he caught a sight which made his blood run cold. Everything around him seemed to slow, he watched in horror as she was suddenly thrown out of the cart at high velocity by a crippling wave of flurrying ice. His blood turned to ice water as her body hit the cliff face like a ragdoll and landed on the cobbled road. He heard her yelp as the air in her lungs was knocked out of her.

“Princess!”

“My lady!” Casavir roared.

Striking one bandit down with the hilt of his sword as he made his way to her. A new energy enveloped him as he saw her lying there. Casavir was reaching in full rage mode, his vision was turning red as he dismembered and broke the bandits the pieces.  
She surprised him when he saw her rise to her feet quicker than he expected and was battling fiercely with the rogue mage with some of her arcane skills.

He was astounded… more than astounded. Not only was she well skilled with arcane abilities but her tenacious will had no quit when she was knocked down. Bouncing back up almost instantly after every hit she failed to block or dodge.

Casavir was well aware she was the mighty Dragonborn but he was in awe her. He almost forgot he was in the middle of a battle before a screaming swordsman came colliding into him. Casavir simply dodged his strike, took his arm broke it backwards, he finished him with a solid punch hard into his chest, feeling the man’s ribs snap and curl inwards with the force. Casavir left him screaming in pain on the floor.

Her skills in the arcane arts were remarkable and the way she wielded such power. She was fierce, no longer a delicate blossoming rose but more of a poisonous thorn – he finally could see the dragon, awaking inside her.  
Then he saw her use her Thu’um. When the moment was right, when she had ducked and dived and positioned herself to take down the entire fleet of bandits, away from the cart. He watched those hazel eyes dilute until they were nothing more but pure white and observed her raw power.

The voice that resonated and rumbled, the ground at his feet quaked. The intense and almost deafening crack of thunder – and the sudden burst of energy that send the entire fleet of outlaws flying through the air.  
… By the God’s… he thought. His jaw once again almost hit the floor.

He had read stories, heard tales of the power of the dragon’s tongue, the stories and whispers were nothing compared to the surreal and extraordinary experience of being witness to it’s raw and immense power.  
The vagabonds that got back up from her Thu’um were scrambling away, knowing it would be foolish to continue the fight against her.

“That’s it! Keep running. I could do with some target practice!” Bishop shouted as he aimed his bow at the retreated few.

“Save your arrows. Let them go.” She sighed, brushing the shards of ice from her armour and shuffling stiffly to the cart.

“My lady! Are you hurt? I saw you being thrown and worried you mi-” Casavir came bounding over to her aid.

“Don’t worry. I’m alright.” She smiled weakly. “But it looks like our driver is in need of your healing charms.”

Casavir stared aimlessly at her for a brief moment. Words could not describe his amazement. This small beautiful Breton wielded a power, possessed by the largest and most deadliest things to ever roam the skies of Nirn. He felt weak at the knees and strangely wished to bow before her, as though she was some divine Aedra.

Don’t be weird! He told himself.

He bowed his head and went to check on the driver who had taken an arrow shot to his shoulder some of the ice shards from the blast that had thrown the Dragonborn. She easily healed herself with a sip of stamina potion and a healing tome. Then they were on their way again.  
Not long after they were back on the road, Casavir had gone scouting ahead while she read the Skyrim travelers guide Casavir had handed to her. She could tell he had been truly studying the chapters about dragons and the way of the voice by the folded pages and the way the book fell open on that page.

“What you reading that for?” Bishop asked biting into an apple and chewing loudly, deliberately to irritate her.

“Because I’m interested. Why else?” She replied behind gritted teeth, glaring at the mushed up apple exposed in his gnawing mouth. She felt one eye twitch, he knew it made her cringe. She looked away, down at the pages where Bishop was rubbing one of the pages between his thumb on finger.

“Pages are soft… good toilet paper…”

She snatched the book from his reach. “Oh no. I need this?” She snapped as Bishop roared in laughter.

___________  
Two days on the road with a rickety cart pulled by an old horse was aggravating Bishop. He hated being sat still for too long, he was always in need for something to do, something practical. Casavir was opposite, she would often see sat quietly and calmly admiring the view or away in his thoughts or scribbling in his brown leather journal that only appeared at night or when he thought he was alone.  
They would travel during the day with the occasional breaks for the horses and set up camp along the road, sharing stories and taking turns on watch during the night.

Travelling with her was a privilege, more and more he was beginning to learn more about her, she was kind and caring for her companions, even Bishop she was nurturing with. Even if he did protest at times. He also learn of her quick temper, especially in a morning.  
One evening they set up camp in the tundra hills. It get late evening, it would be getting dark in two or three hours so they decided to get up camp in the nice spot they found. She came back with dead branches for firewood and returned to find only the driver, Bishop and Karnwyr sat around the dimly burning campfire.

“Where’s Casavir?” She asked as she placed more wood on the fire and cast a fire tome to help it along.

Bishop shrugged. “Probably gone off to pray.”

She sat down by the fire and played with Karnwyr as he rolled around in the mud. It had been a warm and pleasant day, which was rare for Skyrim, but it was known as a land full of surprises.  
“I’m going to go bathe. I shan’t be long.” She said grabbing her things and heading to the stream close by.

“Want me to join you?” Bishop grinned.

“Nope, you stay here. No peeking.” She pointed at him with an orderly tone. Bishop shrugged again and turned to continue playing with his wolf.  
She skipped down to to the stream and turned the boulder for privacy and jumped back when she saw Casavir playing with the fastenings on his Cuirass. His hair was a wet and shaggy, he must have had the same idea. She smiled.  
“So this is where you’ve been hiding!” She said loudly as she bounding round to face him. He took a step back and reached for his sword as she startled him.

“My lady!” He sighed relief when he realized it was her. “H.. How long ha-?”

“Don’t worry! I just got here!” She giggled. “Sorry. Have I interrupted you? Should I…” She asked beginning to head back.

“No, no. I was just returning to camp now my lady.” He said as he sheathed his sword on his back.

“Have you been for a swim?” She asked as she saw the drips of water coming from his wet hair.

“Yes. well.. it’s erm… it’s not quite deep enough to swim, my lady.” He was beginning to blush.

Ugh! So sweet. She drew in her lower lip to bite on to suppress a squeal in delight.

“Well that was a close encounter if I don’t say so myself.” She grinned playfully. “Any sooner, and we may have been faced with a rather awkward situation.” She laughed as she plonked her bag down.  
“Urm… I… I suppose so.” He smiled gauging a nervous chuckle looking at his feet for a moment before looking back up. She was starting to unclip her cuirass.

By the God’s, his rosy blush turned blood red.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He blurted out looking down at his feet and scampering off almost into a run. She giggled and nodded as proceed to get undressed hopped into the chilly stream.  
That night he was first on watch as everyone else slept. The driver was snoring like a bore and Bishop was rolled up covering his ears from the annoying sound. Casavir was on watch, looking out into the darkness, looking for any traces of hostiles. It was a quiet night so he let himself ponder in his thoughts.  
He had come to Skyrim to assist the mighty Dragonborn. He could not think of a more honorable way to protect and to serve the people, for him this was a just cause.

Not only had he come to protect, but he has also come to Skyrim to escape his past. A past which haunted him since the day it came to reality.  
He looked over as the stirring Dragonborn as she tossed and turned, curled up in her cloak by the campfire. The flames light flickered delicately on her features. He had not considered the idea that he could possible feel something, anything for another again. This feeling he had, how it tightened in chest, it made his heart dance and his hands go clammy. What’s happening to me? He thought, stealing another glance at the sleeping beauty.

He vowed he would never allow himself such emotions again, but he was coming to realize that he could not control it. The more time he spent with her, the more he saw her, the more he began to realized this. He pushed the thoughts away so he could focus on keeping watch. He had to resist, he couldn’t allow himself to be hurt like that again. Never again.

_______________________________________________________

The next day they continued on and only stopped to give the horses a break before they knew it, it was evening again. Their travelling on the open road for over for a time as they reached the village of Rorikstead.

“Good. I could do with a drink.” Bishop smiled thankfully at the inn. “You coming ladyship?”

She nodded as she gathered her things and headed after Bishop. She looked over at Casavir who had been attending to his horse with the cart driver.  
He settled his horse with the stable boy and hurried after her. She smiled when she saw him hurrying to catch up and deliberately slowed down for him.

“C’mon Casi.” She grinned walking alongside him. He gave her a polite smile and caught up, holding the door open for her to the inn.

Entering the small inn was a lovely feeling, they were met with the familiar smells of a hearth fire warming them the moment they walked in and the promise of a warm bed and hot meal. Locals were laughing chattering and singing drunken versions of some song about a maiden fair.

“I’ll get the drinks you get some seats.” Bishop said as he placed a wandering hand on her lower back and spoke in her ear.

His eyes quickly snapped to Casavir and if trying to geode him. Casavir frowned at Bishop and as he went to the bar. Being much taller than the dragonborn Casavir could see a table over in the corner and guided her over.  
“Thank you.” She said as he pulled a seat out for her and took a seat beside her.

“For what, my lady?” He spoke politely as ever. Being in his battered steel armour and being the only Paladin made him stand out of the crowd.

“For travelling with me. I know it’s been a little awkward with Bishop and all but…”

“My lady.” Casavir held his hands up to stop her. “Bishop may goede and insult me as much as he wishes. Please, DO NOT apologize for his arrogance.” Casavir insisted with her.

She gazed up at his flint blue eyes inquiringly, considering to herself whether now was the right time to ask about the rivalry between him and the ranger.

“Perhaps if you would tell me about the bad blood you have with one another perhaps I could empathize with you guys.” She mumbled flashing her innocent smile. His expression hardened as if he was turning to stone as he sat back in his seat.

“Me and Bishop go back a long way. Our paths have crossed many times, I would prefer if we left it at that.” He replied. He wasn’t going to tell her a thing. She frowned, her lips drew into a tight line, still intrigued by the grim toned in his last words.

“Can’t you just tell me?” She urged.

“I would rather not say, my lady.” He shifted in his seat as he looked up at the Ranger returning with two drinks and two keys for rooms.  
She frowned down at the tankards Bishop placed in front of her, summing up the missing drink.

“Bishop, there’s three of us…” She stated the obvious.

“He can get his own.” Bishop scoffed as he lifted his to his lips and took a seat.

Casavir rolled his eyes, he wasn’t expecting that sort of kindness from him anyway. The entire journey so far had been mentally draining. Full of vicious and vile insults and taunts.

She glared coldly at Bishop who was acting as cool as ever.

“I’ll get him one then.” She jumped up and went through the crowd of people deliberately striking Bishop with her elbow as she passed making sure to spill his drink over himself.  
She was gone before Casavir could stop her. He didn’t want a drink – especially if she was going to be paying for him. He stood up and followed her through the crowd. She was at the counter already, talking to the inn keeper.

Quick on her feet. He thought.

She wasn’t there for very long, before she was heading back with a large tanker filled to the brim with something.  
She spotted his head poking up out of the crowd immediately and she smiled.

“There you go!” She beamed as she ushered her way to him.

“My lady, I must insist that you refrain from paying for me.” He spoke as he looked down at the drink she placed in his hands.

“Oh don’t be daft! It’s the least I can do for putting up with his manners – or lack of…” She replied with a warm smile. He smiled, slightly amused by her reply.

“You are most kind my lady.” He bowed his head.  
“Oh Casavir, will you please loosen up a lil. You’re as stiff as the hinges on your armour.” She playfully scolding him. He chuckled in his throat and apologized as they stood there for a while. He knew his speech was somewhat different from the laid back talk of Skyrimian’s, he had noticed that when he first entered the city.

He remembered how people frowned with confusion and curiosity of his well spoken accent. He had not realized he had been so formal with her.  
When he looked back at her she was smiling sheepishly and trying to hide her face, the crimson tinge to her cheeks and the coy smile. Is she sick? He thought.

“Are you alright my lady?”  
“Yes! Im fine.” She said a little too sudden making Casavir raise an eyebrow. “C’mon let’s get back to our seats.” She laughed nervously as ushered him back through the crowd.

Gods, did he know he was divine? She thought. His tall strong broad physique and handsome features were beautiful and to top it off with a cherry, his deep laugh was beautiful and hypnotic. She loved his accent, and his formal way of speech was rather sexy to her. She could listen to him all day – if given the chance.  
One tanker became two and two became four. Before She knew it she had almost drunk an entire cask of ale.

Casavir sipped on the same tanker the whole night. Keeping a watchful eye of her as she was socialising with the locals. Bishop was sat quietly in the shadows of the room, with Karnwyr curled up at his feet.  
She was so mirthful when she was drunk, more so than when she was sober. She laughed more and was a clumsy as all drunks are. She was up talking to a travelling bard and was taking drunken drumming lessons from him as she began to gallivant around banging on his drum.

Bishop was laughing a her stupidity and was suggesting she do the Hammerfell Haka, in which she replied with words he never thought would leave those lovely angelic lips.  
They stayed up a little while and talked before retiring to bed. Bishop had managed to get the last two rooms and she was getting annoyed about where everyone was sleeping.  
“Well where’s Cassy guna shleep? “ She whined.

“It’s alright my lady. I don’t mind sleeping on the bench.” He replied.

“No!” She frowned. “Wayt! Yu can shleep wiv me!” She smiled and leaned against Casavir.

Bishop choked on his ale and Casavir’s mouth open and closed without saying a word. His face turned bright red. He attempted to make her see reason but she was adamant that Casavir should sleep in her room.

“Forgive me, but I can’t” Casavir sighed.

“Why!?” She pouted. “I don’ snor.”

“Because it would be improper of be to…” Casavir began.

“Luk Paladin! Yu ar my companniiun… compannniun… com-”

“Companion.” He helped her.

“Yesh!! It iz my job to tayk care ov yu. So! Yu ar shleepin wiv me!” She nodded, with a triumphant smirk believing she had won the argument.  
Casavir glanced up and saw Bishop staring straight back at him, his eyes flickering with judgment and hatred.

“Well he can have my room.” Bishop shrugged putting down his tanker.

What? Casavir thought, rather shocked.

“Then I can keep you company, princess.” He purred leaning forward and grinning wickedly at her.

“Ain’ appenin’” She pushed her palm into Bishop’s face .

“Why? You were alright with the Paladin shacking up with you.”

“Becos yu smel like wet dog! An I no wha yu arr up tu.” She replied. “No ovfens Karnweer.” She smiled rubbing Karnwyr head.

“Already told you Princess, that’s your smell rubbing off on me.” He laughed.

She rolled her eyes and slumped in her seat spilling her drink over Casavir’s lap.

“OH GOD’S!” She gasped as he winced at the cold beverage.

“It’s alright my lady.” She reassured her as he wiped away what he could. His whole body tensed when she delicate hands began to rub against his legs as in to aid him.

Mara’s mercy. He gulped as he felt himself stiffen underneath his armour.  
Casavir stood abruptly and stepped away to rescue himself.

“Perhaps it is time to retire for the night, my lady.” He held his hand out for her. She stared at his hand for a moment before nodding and took his hand, continuously apologising as he helped her to her room. She looped her arm around Casavir’s and staggered by his side.

“Ssory.” She slurred as another giggle escaped her. Casavir opened the door and let her stumble over to the bed.  
“Sleep well my lady.” Casavir smiled and turned to leave as she landed on the bed. “Ey, Cassy?” She slurred kicking off her boots.

“Yes?”

“Cum an sit wiv me.” She smiled dreamily at him and patted the space next to her for him to sit. Casavir halted at the door, he could feel the rangers eyes boring into the back of his skull. With hesitation he slowly walked over.

“Shhut the dor.” She told him as she unclipped her leather chest plate and tossed it on the chair by her bed.

Calm now, Casavir. He told himself as he looked down at the floor, taking a few steady breaths.

“My lady, perhaps I should let you retire for the night.” He stammered heading back for the door.

“No, Cum sit wiv me! I wont biyt.” She laughed, wrapping her mage robe around her more and patting the space on the bed for him. He kept his eyes downcast and sat down on the bed beside her.

“I av sum quessttiunz for yu.” She smiled sweetly, leaning in gently against his arm. He swallowed hard, refusing to look at her.

“Very well. What do you wish to know?” He nodded and nervously licked his dry lips, looking down at the rug.  
“Furst! Wats yorr favurit colour?” She asked. She crossed her legs and got herself comfy on the bed.

“I do not have one my lady.” He replied rather surprised by her question. She nodded, thinking of another question.

“I wanna know, ar yu all bretun? Coz yu ar bludy tall for a bretun!” she asked leaning on a little more.

“I am Breton my lady.” He chuckled nervously, though his voice turned somber. “But my father was of Nordic origin.”

“Well tha explainz yor hight. An yor luvli blu eyes.” She giggled.  
Lovely? He felt his face burning up again.

“Aww Cassiiii! you’re so cute!” She laughed as she cupped his cheeks and turned him to face her. She was giggling, her radiant joyful smile commanded his attention. He was overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion that hit him from her hands touching his cheeks. Cute? Oh Gods… Those glittering hazel eyes stung with a bloodshot whites, they were still beautiful.

“Thank you, My lady. You’re very kind to say so. Perhaps you should get some rest now?” Casavir smiled nervously and removed her hands from his face. Just like the rest of her, they were much smaller than him.

“Alright!” She whined falling back onto her pillow.

“Goodnight my lady.” He bowed politely and headed for the door.

He turned to see her with her eyes already drifting to sleep.  
He sat at the table outside her room in case that savage tried to sneak in. He could sense people looking at him from all directions.

He stuck out a horker in the deserts of Hammerfell. A lonely Paladin travelling along the roads of skyrim with his fair lady.  
“Oi Paladin.” Bishop said as he walked over to Casavir. “Feel that?”

“What?” He asked flatly.

Bishop remained silent for a few moments before leaning in and whispering. “That’s what you call temptation.”  
Casavir’s brows furrowed and his jaw tensed. “I am here to assist the dragonborn on her quest. I want no part in your twisted mind games Bishop.” He growled in a deep harsh tone.

“Really? Well then, I guess I called it wrong then. But the thing is, when I shoot an arrow it doesn’t miss.”  
Casavir didn’t respond to that and he refused to get in an argument, he looked down at the table his hands balled up into fists.

“Goodnight, oh holy Paladin.” Bishop spat menacingly as her sauntered over to his room.

Casavir closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose, zoning away from the rangers goeding laugh. That damn Ranger…. It was going to be difficult travelling with him.


	4. Whiterun

What a brilliant start to the day. Why do I do this to myself? She silently complained to herself.

The morning light was blinding to her sensitive eyes, the stale booze in her stomach sloshed around heavily and her brain felt like it was going to explode with the most unforgiving headache.

“EY! SLOW DOWN YOU BASTARD!” Bishop snarled giving chase after the carriage that had left without them and was down the road just outside Rorikstead.

“Why didn’t he wakes us?” She groaned. “Casavir can you try and slow the carriage?”

“My lady, I could ride you to the carriage, you don’t look like you should be -” He began.

“I’ll be fine, Cas. Just get that carriage to slow.” She cut in mid sentence as she picked up speed after the Ranger.

She knew getting a lift on the Paladin’s horse would be easier, but she needed Bishop to keep up too, she knew he would refuse Casavir even if he did offer.  
Finally past Rorikstead’s gates, she gave a short burst of energy to catch up with Bishop and jumped onto his back.

“Ey! I’m not giving you a piggyback!” Bishop snapped.

“Brace!” She took a slow and deep inhale of breath.

“Wh-”

“WULD, NAH KEST!” She shouted, their surroundings flew by them in colours, their feet lifted from the ground and flew a great distance before landing again. Only neither were prepared for the landing and ended in a tumbled mess on the road.  
“You fucking idiot!” Bishop groaned, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. “Stupid woman!”

“Oh suck it up Ranger. Look, the carriage is just there!” She replied with a huff and pointed to the carriage which was a few feet away. They quickly picked themselves up and easily caught up with the carriage, finally she could rest on the soft fur pelts while Bishop yelled furiously at the driver. It was there fault – they slept in.

Finally her intoxicated body could take no more and she lent over the carriage, hurling up the entire contents of sour booze from her stomach.

“That’ll teach ya for mixing your wine and ale.” Bishop laughed.

“Shut!… up!” She heaved between her vomiting episodes.  
Wiping her mouth she pulled herself back up and huddled into the furs. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced up and saw Casavir travelling alongside the cart, his steel blue eyes filled with concern as he looked at her.

How long had he been there?

He probably saw that….. Great…….

Smiled wearily up at him. Embarrassment hit her like a waved, her cheeks flushed bright crimson.

“Are you feeling any better my lady?” His rich voice was full of caring interest. She replied with a nod, she was too hungover to be making conversation and wasn’t feeling any better but she didn’t want to be a bother. It was her fault she was in this state, she was willing to face the consequences.  
The jumbled up memories of last night came back. Banging on a drum and prancing around the inn like a complete loony. Telling Casavir he could share her bed! Spilling her drink over him and rubbing his leg! Then pinching his cheeks…. Calling him cute! She cringed.  
You stupid woman! She hated herself so much right now.  
Casavir frowned briefly, knew her response was void. He fumbled about with something on his saddle and a few moments later he was holding out his water skin for her. “Drink.” He said.

She looked at it for a moment before taking it. Peering up from under her hood at the Paladin, as he traveled alongside the cart. The morning sun behind shone off his armor, giving him a golden, almost Godly aura. If it wasn’t for the shadows under his eyes…  
Poor Casavir, he’d endured a terrible night sleep hunched over on a bench outside her room. How she had come out that morning and seen him resting against the bench, still in his armour and looking incredibly uncomfortable.

Whatever was in this water skin was doing the trick. She felt her throat rejoice as if the rainy season had finally arrived for the starving crops. She couldn’t get enough of the stuff. The agonizing throb in her head ebbed and the knives stabbing at the back of her eyes quit, allowing her to admire the wonderful morning in Whiterun hold.

“How are you feeling, my lady?” Casavir asked again some time later..

“I feel much better thank you.” She replied, pulling down her hood her eyes could now tolerate the morning light now the skies were overcast with clouds. “What’s in this? Have you blessed it or something?” She asked, taking another sip.

“Water. My lady.” He replied with a chuckle. “There is no blessing or herbal remedies added.” She nodded and waned a smile, her eyes fell to her thumbs which were playing with the rip of the waterskin.  
“Hey, Casavir?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable last night… I hope I… I mean… I hope I didn’t offend you…” Her voice was soft, full of sympathy and concern.

“I do not accept apologies where they are not needed, my lady.” He replied. She tilted her head a little to glance up at him. His face calm with traces of humour rippling in his eyes.

“But I thank you for your concern.”

 

After being attacked by a Sabre cat that was lurking in the vast orange tundra hills, Casavir decided to scout ahead again and clear the way. Bishop had been quiet since they got on the cart, he was sat sharpening his knife stealing glances at her.

“You’re quite.” She stated. It was rare Bishop was so silent, he normally always got himself involved in conversations, whether wanted or not. He shrugged and began to pick under his nails with the sharp blade.

“A coin for your thoughts?” She asked, holding a Septim towards him.

“No amount of gold can pay for my thoughts.” He replied coldly.

“Really?! Its normally so easy to get you to voice your opinions. Are you annoyed about the whirlwind?” She asked.

“No!”

“Well… I’m sorry.” She sighed. Bishop looked up from his fingers and scowled at her, then looked away.

“It’s him isn’t it?” She said, both of them knew who she was referring to.

“I don’t know why you felt the need to go back for that damn Paladin. He makes my skin itch.” Bishop turned his focus on his rough pedicure.

“He’s offering his sword, it was foolish of me to not accept.” She said. “Besides, we’re going to need as much help as we can get.” She grinned playfully.

“That’s not the reason though… is. It..?” Bishop bit off the last words baring his teeth like he was spitting acid with his words. She ran her fingers through her tangled waves and groaned in frustration.

“I wish you would tell me what the beef is between you guys! Then maybe I could empathise with your cranky attitude.” She sighed rubbing her temples.

“Fine. He’s a fucking fraud! He carries himself off like some ‘saint’ when… Trust me princess, he isn’t. I know him more than anyone… I’ve seen what he is! What he can do!” Bishop replied, stabbing his blade into the cart bench in frustration.

She paused for a moment. Looking ahead at the distant Paladin scouting ahead. Seen what he is? She thought.  
“He’s a Paladin.” She reverted back to Bishop.

“He’s a man! I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It makes my blood boil! I swear if i see him even look at you in a way that displeases me again…!”

“Oh Divines sake Bishop! You’re jealously is making you see things! Just admit it… You are jealous!”

Bishop’s eyes glared at her, the anger behind his bronze eyes faded away and was replaced with what looked like he had just had an epiphany. They held each other’s stare for a what felt like forever, his eyes were intense boring into hers, she wanted to look away but she was trapped in his stare. She had never seen such emotion portrayed in him before, she never thought it possible…

An emotion was visible in his eyes – one that she could not read, it was intense and hungry. She opened her mouth to speak, to say anything!

“…err..” Was all that came.  
“Whatever you want to believe princess… I’m done talking about this.” His eyes suddenly ripped away as the same hardened cold aloofness flooded back.

She was speechless, disorientated in what had just happened. In those few moments they shared, his vicious condescending side calmed and he allowed her to peer at the man behind the belligerent facade.

Ok, that was weird…. She thought.

________________________________________

They finally reached Whiterun. She couldn’t wait to get out of the carriage and away from the awkward tension once again between her and the Ranger. Casavir payed the stable master his fee and walked alongside her. He was pleased he was able to walk along with her without the Rangers presence tainting her aura for a moment. He could sense something had changed between the two, she was less animated and seemed to lost in her thoughts. Bishop was walking some distance behind and seemed to be in the same mood.

The Paladin hated to admit it, but it did bring him some peace seeing Bishop so aloof and distant. But curiosity gnawed at him as to what troubled her.

“Is everything alright my lady?” He asked softly only for her ears.

“Yes, just a little groggy.” She replied. He nodded slowly and peered over his shoulder at the Ranger who was throwing viciously glares at him.

If looks could kill, Casavir would be six feet under back in Solitude.  
Casavir stayed close to her as they headed through the Whiterun large gates. Whiterun was very different to Solitude. It was hard tundra flat land apart from the mountains surrounding it.

Whiterun was how he had imagined all the cities of Skyrim to look. Wooden frames and thatched roofs, not like Solitude built from giant stone walls. He thought Whiterun was rather pleasant. It had a certain air about it that made you feel comfortable and welcomed. It was different from what he had grown up with but he liked it.

Being the trading capital of Skyrim, the town was booming with life. People coming and going with supplies and merchants selling their goods.

Casavir was quietly admiring the city and the stalls, the locals and travelers going about their business, making trades, carts coming and going. Children playing by the well in the centre of the market.

A hard bump made him halt and look down to a young girl, rubbing her forehead as she looked up angrily at the Paladin.

“Hey watch it…!” The little girl snapped, her frown disappeared as she froze staring at the giant warrior in his Paladin gear.

“My apologies, miss. Are you alright?” He asked concerningly at the young girl. She just nodded her head, still dazed at the Paladin a presence. He smiled slightly and bowed his head before continuing on after the dragonborn.

“Woaw.” A little boy gawked with his jaw dropped. It appeared Casavir was quite a sight, he wasn’t just attracting the children’s attention. Many of the locals had spotted him too!  
Casavir finally caught up with her as she stopped waiting patiently at a stall and was selling some jewels she had collected on her adventures.

She turned and smiled at Casavir, then something behind him caught her eye, her smile broadened when she noticed his group of followers he appeared to be completely oblivious to. She gestured for him to lean down so she could whisper in his ear.

“You have some admirers.” She whispered softly. He stood up straight again, looking at her blankly before turning round to see who she was speaking of.  
She was right, the children had followed after him through the market stalls and were watching Casavir’s every move from their terrible hiding places.

Even a group of women had gathered by a grocery stall whispering to one another and watching him. They too had noticed the strapping, handsome stranger wandering through town.  
“Oh….” He turned back round, an apprehensive look in his eyes. She giggled at his bashfulness.

Casavir was so reserved and modest, he seemed oblivious to any attention he attracted, or perhaps he was just used to it.

He was indeed a wonder. A paladin, in Skyrim? Of all places. Quite possibly the only Paladin these people had ever seen. Being ruggedly handsome and an abnormally tall Breton only added to the awe factor.  
“I don’t think anybody has seen such a tall Breton – or a Paladin for that matter. I know you’re my first…eh… Paladin! I mean!” She quickly corrected herself.

He smiled sheepishly and she noticed the hint of rose blush in his cheeks. “Well, you are the first Dragonborn I have ever been in the presence of.” He replied, his heart swelled when he heard her soft coy giggle.

“Ugh..” He heard Bishop grunt behind them. Casavir ignored him and looked through the items on sale.

She watched him for a moment, he was such a mysterious man. He held himself so reserved and formed. She had never met a Paladin before Casavir. She had heard stories about their heroic deeds and selfless acts and their valor. But what about him, he was a Paladin yes, but there was indeed a man behind that armour. She felt a thirst of knowledge, to get to know the man behind the Paladin armour.

Who was he?

How did he become a paladin?

Why did he become a Paladin?

Does he have a family? friends?

Favorite food?… Favorite colour?

Blue. It had to be blue,. Wait? Didn’t I ask him that already?….

She allowed her eyes to wander over him while he was occupied, his face etched with stern structure and his velvety black hair. Is it as soft as it looks? She thought. His armour was battered and well used, deep scars carved into the chest plate, mementoes from previous battles.

“Is everything alright my lady?” She must have looked troubled while debating with herself.

“Yes. Sorry just away in my thoughts. By the way. That tends to happen allot so I’ll warn you now rather than later. ” She smiled causing him to raise an elegant brow with a pleasant amused grin.

“I appreciate your warning my lady.” He chuckled.

“Ok! So, let’s go get some rooms at the inn before it gets booked up.” She chimed happily, linking her arm around his and began to walk through the crowd together.

“Lead on, my lady.”

____________________________________________

Now sat in the tub listening to the sounds of the patrons laughing and making merry downstairs. It was peacefully quiet in the room, the crackle of the warm fire burning in the corner and the smell of sandalwood floating with the steam rising from the water that was soothing his aching muscles. Being on the road for days and only being able to bathe in the streams was a nightmare when you were constantly on the lookout for wild beasts or thugs ready to rob you blind.

He sank back into the tub, his broad shoulders sitting him up as his rested his arms on the rim. Letting his head hang back as he stared up at the thatched ceiling away in his thoughts.

This was supposed to be a new beginning for him, a fresh start. How could he hope to have that when Bishop, a ghost from his past was here – in Skyrim of all the damn places, and travelling with the one person he had hoped to assist.

Do the gods dislike me so? He sighed.

It was a true honor to have her wish him by her side, for her to travel all the way back and to risk her friendship with that savage.

Their conversation was still lingering in his mind.  
“My lady? May I enquire as to why he has grown more resentful? More than usual I mean.” Casavir asked subtly gesturing in Bishop’s direction who had gone off to sit in the darkest corner of the room, refusing to sit at the same table as the Paladin.

“He doesn’t like you being here. Nothing you don’t already know.” She replied lightly, though he sensed her division.

“My lady, I must apologise – if my presence is causing any burden to you…” He began but she held her hand up her palm facing him and interrupted abruptly.

“No Casavir, I want you with me. Bishop will just deal face that fact. I have already said to him on the road back to Solitude that it is his choice to leave whenever he wishes. He is here on his own free will, and so are you.” She replied with a calm tone. He looked at her with a dazed expression written on his face, her animated personality had softened, looking at him with a kind warm and comforting gaze. He had not expected her to be so accepting about their disputes.  
Casavir was moved by her response. It’s was such a euphoric feeling her words gave him, that she wanted him to travel with her. He had half expected her to be angry at his failure, finding him at the brink of death in the snowy mountains. After such a failure, she still wished for his aid? He couldn’t help be amazed by her.  
When he first realised she was travelling with that Ranger he felt sick merely looking at him. It completely baffled him as to why such a good person would allow such a twisted and vulgar man to travel with her.

For her to want Casavir by her side after such a failure, and to threaten such bonds with the savage Ranger. He was conflicted on whether that was a good or bad thing. But his mind settled on good.  
His mind was wandering into no man’s land, where he locked away his adoration for her. Her wonderful laugh that sang to him, such a joyous sound. He imagined her laughter being the music of the Gods, so sweet and melodic. The mere sound made him weak at the knees, warm ripples over his skin like the warm rays of a summer’s day. It was uncomfortable how easily this woman made his heart race, his blood flush to his cheeks, to leave him lost for words.

No! He had been tempted by this once before and the hurt and pain in his chest had scarred him enough to keep him away from that path.  
Casavir returned to a quiet room where everyone was fast asleep. Bishop was sprawled out on his bed, his arms folded behind his head snoring away with his large black wolf curled up at his feet.

On the other side of the room lay his lady, she was asleep too, rolled over facing the wall. Her curved hips emphasised by her laying on her side. The candle burning on the corner table beside her bed, he gingerly crept past the wolf who stirred looking up with his molten eyes and growling as he went by his master. “Easy boy.” Casavir whispered which calmed Karnwyr almost the moment Casavir spoke.  
He reached his bed, kicking his satchel under his bed behind his boots, he laid back staring up at the ceiling, he thought about his journey with his lady. It had only been a few days yet she never ceased to surprise him, everything she did. Her optimism, her ideas, the way her eyes saw this world.

He meant what he said to her that night after the ball, she was a light, the light he had been drawn to. Perhaps it was the light that brought him to this land, calling him from beyond the vast ocean. Why? Why was he drawn to her? Like a moth to a flame. Sooner or later, he knew he would get burnt if he followed down the path which was so tempting.

He bit back the thought, no longer wishing to delve into such nonsense, he forced his eyes shut. Exhaustion finally claimed the weary Paladin as he drifted to sleep.

Casavir was asleep, deep in his dreams.

Flowers in hand and practically skipping up the stone steps, he was so happy. This was it, he didn’t care what his friends told him – liars, the lot of them.

He was going to marry this woman, his love – the only good thing left in his life.

He had the ring, gold with a white diamond. It cost almost all his savings but it was worth it for her.

He stepped through the doors and walked with a proud bounce in his step. The entire room fell silent – bar the musicians in the background as he strode past the crowd of drunks and to her chambers.

“Casavir, lad. I wouldn’t go up there.” One man said as he headed upstairs. Casavir ignored him, he would not listen to them anymore.

Life had been cruel to young Casavir. He would not allow corruption to take away the one shred of happiness this woman gave to him.

“Casavir! – ? Sh… shouldn’t you be on guard duty?” A maid dropped her fresh washed linen she was carrying in shock of seeing him, traces of panic on her face.

“I got the day off, I thought I would surprise her.” He chortled with a huge smile.

“No! Don’t go in-”  
He turned the handle and walked in with a huge smile on his face. “Ophala are y-”

Ice water filled his veins as he took in the sight of his lady in bed… in bed with another man…

“Casavir! What are you… Oh Gods…” Ophala gasped as the two scrambled away from one another.

This was a trick…. This had to be. Only he knew it wasn’t. This man dare defile her!

“You bastard, get away from her!” He bellowed. Taking a step forward, he froze in mid step when he caught sight of the man.

… no… no…  
The next thing he knew, he was running. Running frantically through the halls, blood soaking his body and people’s eyes looked at him, horrified. His heart pounded furiously in his chest as it was torn away from anything but betrayal. The screams echoed through the halls as he ran away. His feet couldn’t get him away fast enough.  
“God’s man! What have you done!?” One onlooker said, trying to grab him.  
“Casavir?! What’s happened?” His friend asked when he saw Casavir crash through the doors and onto the streets.  
The screams grew louder, a piercing shrill in his ears. He kept running, as fast as his disorientated self to take him, people gasped and shocked as they saw him, his surrounding began to distort, the shadows around him began to shift and run of colour.

Bursting through the doors of the temple, he fell to his knees. The only place he felt safe, ever since a boy, his only sanctuary. He crawled on his hands and knees and curled up under the statute of Stendarr. His whole body shook as gulping aired cries wracked through him.

“Forgive me… please… forgive me?” The distant cries and screams of his pursuers becoming demonic and turned to ear piercing shrieks…  
He bolted upright in bed, shaking in cold sweats and heavy pants desperate for air as he looked around at his familiar surroundings – realizing it was just one the same old dream.

Will these damn dreams ever cease? He thought, taking one last heavy breath. He took a few gulped from his water skin and tried to steady his shakes.  
He knew sleep would not return to him tonight, it was almost dawn anyway. It was only himself and the dire wolf on on the Ranger’s bed who was awake. His molten eyes looking over at Casavir curiously.

Perhaps a stroll through the town at first daybreak would settle my mind. It usually always cleared his mind for a time.

He rose quietly and geared up in his armour before quietly leaving the room, leaving his lady to rest fully.

Little did he know, within the shadows that hid her face she was awake, she had seen him stir, seen his writhing around and subtle whimpers, she had been inches away from waking him from whatever had caused him such distress. She quietly observed him leave the room, deep in thought as to what may had worried him so.

_________________________________________________

Casavir loved travelling Skyrim, even if he had to put up with the damn Ranger.

They ventured through rain and snow and rested by fire at night.

Casavir learnt so much about her. Even though Bishop was critical when she got curious and exploring caves and ruins of old, Casavir found this trait a lovely one indeed. Though he feared for her safety, he found that these draugr they faced weren’t much of a challenge for him. Even in wolfskull cave, it was the necromancers and their spell casting that had proved the true challenge. The draugr would cower in Casavir’s presence and the ones that didn’t fell before they could land a strike. Perhaps it was his Paladin aura that was the reason. Casavir used this to his advantage of keeping his leader safe.  
He was well aware she could hold her own, but panic shot through him like a cinder bolt when he saw her knocked back by an enemy.

He found himself in thought – quite often these days, admiring the small things she did on many occasions. The way she always pick lavender flowers to play with on her travels. The way her eyes glittered and put the stars to shame when with her smile which warmed Casavir’s somewhat frozen heart. Each time he found himself pondering by the line, that dreaded line that filled him with fear. He would quickly and sharply reel himself back.  
“Stone.” Bishop guessed.

“Nope. Two guesses left.”

“Sky.” Bishop guessed again.

She shook her head, grinning.

Bishop paused, taking a glance at the Paladin. “Sword!”

“Nope! It was stirrup.” She beamed wriggling her foot in the stirrup to show him.

“FUCK!” Bishop snapped. “I’m not playing this stupid game!”

“Oh c’mon… don’t be a sore loser.” She pleaded.

“No.”

She huffed and remained silent as she continued on down the road on her new horse, Allie! Casavir had noticed her admiration for the black beauty who also appeared to be pleased to see her, she did love this horse. She just never seemed to have enough gold to buy her. Which is why it was a surprise when Casavir began to saddle her up.

“For you my lady.” She remembered him saying as he handed her the reins.  
She enjoyed her traveler’s life, though it was not the one she made by choice, but it was much more fruitful having the company of the mighty Paladin, the Ranger and the matted furry mess called Karnwyr. They distracted her from her worries that always came to her – she could hide behind her smile.

When she looked over her shoulder Bishop was always close behind and she knew Casavir was close by the creeks and soft clatter his armour made along with his heavy footsteps. Even though they were no longer the stealthiest of parties – now Casavir had joined, Casavir never failed to make her feel safe in a land that could take her life in an instant.  
She looked over at the Paladin, again looking around at the sea of trees away in his thoughts. Every time she would attempt to grill him about his history he would withdraw from the conversation. “Perhaps another time.” Would be his response. She was determined to break through that thick wall he held around him – find out what always woke him from in a blind panic every night.  
They reached Ivarstead later that same evening, the sky lit with ribbons of orange and gold as the sun began to fade. That night they stayed at the local inn, this always caused problems as they never seemed to have room and Poor Casavir was always left on the stone floor. He refused to take a warm bed from his lady. She gave him her bedroll to lay on for extra comfort off the stone floor.

In the morning they began their climb to High Hrothgar, she had the horn. It was time, she was ready, she needed to fulfill her destiny.


	5. Wrangle

Bishop scouted ahead with Karnwyr and left Casavir some alone time with the fair Dragonborn. She had become accustomed to the Ranger’s new distant behavior and began to accept it. It was a moment of peace and ease from the uncomfortable, tense atmosphere that had grown to accompany them since Casavir’s recovery in Solitude. The dynamic rivalry between the Ranger and the Paladin was a heavy weight on her, still, she had hope they soon see eye to eye. Hope being a very bold thing to hold onto these days.

It was silent for a time, apart from the soft clatter of metal that followed Casavir as his armour moved with him. It was true, their presence was no longer unnoticeable but she felt proud of her choice to have Casavir as a companion. He had shown he was incredibly skilled in battle and his wisdom and his steadiness very comforting and brought her calm.

“So… your first time to High Hrothgar.” She began, peering up at him.

“Indeed, I am looking forward to meeting these legendary monks. Though it is said they do not allow any travelers inside.”

“Don’t worry Casavir, you’re with me! They will allow you inside. Besides! I’m sure they’ll be interested in you too!” She smiled sweetly making him crack a soft grin.

“I doubt it.” He gauged a nervous laugh.

“Why not?! After all they are devout worshipers of Kynareth. Kynareth is the Divine who blessed man with the voice. You are a Paladin. Not only are you are rare, almost non existent sight in Skyrim, you worship the Divines and have devoted your life to uphold their righteousness. Why wouldn’t they be interested in you?” She continued. He listened intently to her statement nodded slightly.

“I suppose.” He replied looking ahead his eyes narrowed as he saw Karnwyr come bounding clumsily down the steps with a stick in his mouth, Karnwyr dropped it at Casavir’s feet and waited.

Casavir paused, staring down at the drool sodden stick that had been dropped in his path. He eyed the stick, then Karnwyr, then back to the stick.

“Go on. Throw the stick.” She gently nudged his arm. Hesitantly he picked it up and watched Karnwyr stamp his paws with excitement.

“Strange wolf.” He murmured as he threw the stick ahead of him, Karnwyr barked loudly and scurried off after it.

“He likes you.” She smiled patting his arm.

“I don’t understand why? He is Bishop’s pet. And Bishop hates me.” He chuckled shaking his head.

“Emm… no, no – Karnwyr is not a pet.” She corrected him. He turned to her with a puzzled expression, so she began to explain. “Karnwyr is a wolf, a wild animal. You cannot have a wild animal as a pet. Bishop is Karnwyr’s family, they are both a different side of the same coin.” Casavir remained silent as she spoke, listening to her intently. “They’re both different, but the same. Just because Bishop has bad taste doesn’t mean Karnwyr does too.” She jested gently punching Casavir’s arm. With that, Casavir could not help a smile she ounce again brought to him, along with a nervous chuckle. She felt her heart swell and butterflies tickle her stomach as she admired them.

“I suppose you are right again my lady.” He looked down at her. Those bright hazel eyes twinkled back at him and her cheeks flushed pink. He felt his heart ache, an urge to touch her face grew inside him. _Oh shit, No!_ He quickly reeled himself back to safety and looked ahead, his smile fell and his stern expression returned.

“Shall we push on?” He cleared his throat. She nodded and walked alongside him in silence. “Of course I’m right.” She grinned.

 

Further up the mountain the cold winds began to catch up and the air was crisp and clear. The cold air whipped around them the higher they climbed up the steps so they pulled on their cloaks. As she was about to fasten hers a gust of wind came down from the mountain and caught her cloak, carrying it off into the wind.

“Damn it!” She cursed as she tried to catch it, she darted forward after the cloak rippling in the wind current, she suddenly felt out of control with her footing as she felt her feet slide on the frozen ground under her, slipping towards the edge of the mountain too fast for herself to react.

“MY LADY!” A plated arm wrapped round her waist and yanked her back from the crumbling edge.

 _Woaw…._ She breathed in deeply trying to catch her breath that had just been shocked out of her.

“Are you alright?!” Casavir a voice came mere inches away etched with concern.

Her heart began to pound hard in her chest, then it thundered as she realised they were stuck together, almost as close as they had been in The Winking Skeever when Casavir decided to take a tumble.

“I’m fine.” She nodded shakily, he took a few steps back from the mountain edge before releasing her, she some reason felt downhearted to no longer have the Paladin’s armour pressed against her back. She turned to his steel blue eyes and smiled. “Thank you Casi.” She gingerly peeled herself off him.

“Forgive me, I was rather abrupt…” He bowed his head, she smirked. _Noble indeed_.

She patted his chest plate and walked on. “Don’t apologize for saving my hide from a gruesome end.” She pointed to the bottom of the ginormous drop off the end. “C’mon.” She continued on, her arms wrapped around her front holding her arms. _Just going to be a shivering mess now,_ she thought wading through the fresh fallen snow.

“My lady?” Casavir called calmly, she felt a thick heavy cloak being placed on her shoulders. A well made piece, strong and steady, fine linen and fur waded into it, making it warm and water resistant.

“B – but what about you?” She stuttered. The Paladin’s kind gesture brought them once again closer, walking alongside him was reasonable but having him up close face to face always brought a flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

“I have layers, I think you are in need of this more than myself, my lady.” He flashed a polite smile. She grimaced, remembering all the layers she had tackled with to get him comfortable for his recovery. She remembered the layer of steel plate – all those buckles and fastenings, the layer of quilted chain mail underneath and then the leathers underneath that. She was secretly impressed he could still walk around with all that baggage. Giving credit to his horse also.

“Thanks.” She smiled, wrapping his cloak around her as he gestured for her to continue. She smiled as her cheeks turned rosy pink. Casavir thought nothing of it and took it as a sign she was cold. She could feel the warmth from his neck and his scent on the collar. A earthy tang mixed with soap. _Mmmm_ , She suppressed a giggle.  
When they caught up to Bishop he was perched on a rock, swinging his dangling legs and making his knife dance about in his hand.

“About time!” Bishop said never leaving focus on his dancing dagger.

“One of these days you’ll lose a finger doing that!” She shouted up at him. He gave a toothy grin and turned to glance at her. His grin fell and eyes honed in when he noticed the Paladin’s cloak draped around her.

“You’ve got your own cloak.” He growled jumping up and storming up to them.

“It blew off the mountain.” She replied.

“Well have mine.” Bishop tried to pull the Paladin’s cloak off her. She struggled, wrapping it around herself tighter.

Casavir’s hands came to view and gripped tightly at Bishops wrists, Bishop let out a yelp like a injured animal as he jumped back.

“Don’t be childish Bishop, she has a cloak.” He spoke in his same deep and warming voice which with his scent filling her nose almost made her a swoon.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Bishop snapped as he stepped closer to challenge the Paladin.

“Watch your tongue!” Casavir bellowed, his temper beginning to simmer.

“Why? What you going to do? Cut it off?”

“Do not tempt me, Ranger.”

“Ah, yes! Temptation. You know allot about that don’t you?” Bishop smirked. Casavir could feel his tolerance to the Ranger beginning to break. He was reaching his limit with this man. Casavir took a step forward closer for the Ranger who took a step back getting prepared for a fight with a devilish grin on his face.

“Ey, Enough.” She jumped in between them.

“Let’s get to High Hrothgar before we all freeze!” She quickly defused the situation. After a short silence, Bishop shrugged giving Casavir a smug look before venturing ahead.  
She heard a low growl resonating from the Paladin, peering up at him as his nostrils flared and eyes colding staring at the Ranger. She too was losing her patience with the both of them. Bishop seemed to constantly taunt and jest at Casavir, like he was trying to start a fight. Waiting for him to snap.

“… Cas?” She placed a hand on his arm, his eyes softened as he looked down at her.

“I must apologize my lady, in all honesty, I am beginning to loose my patience with that man.” He said after taking a long intake of air to calm himself.

“I can see that. You shouldn’t let him get to you! I know Bishop can be a difficult at times…” She began to explain, Casavir turned his head away to hide his disapproval. He wished he could see what she saw in that man, but there was too much between him and the Ranger for him to be able to see him in any other way but a two timing, backstabbing, evil… He felt a pull on his arm which made him look down at her. “Try to understand that you are both on the same side, please?” Casavir hesitantly nodded. “I will, my lady. Forgive me.” He nodded. She smiled softly as they continued up the steps, the Bishop was off in the distance barely visible as he ventured on ahead of them.

“Casavir?”

“Yes?”

“You and Bishop? How long have you known one another?” She asked, subtly working her way up to getting the truth. Perhaps she would get the answers she seeked if she worked her way to them. She felt him tense briefly and his footing halted for a moment.

“We…. We go back a long way…” He answered, she could sense his resignation and… _was that hurt?_

“How long?” She carefully pushed on. He paused for a few moments before answering again.

“Since our youth.” He replied flatly.

“So, there’s allot of history between you two?” She glanced up at him as he looked ahead, his jaw clenched as he nodded his reply.

“Will you tell me?” She asked ever so sweetly hoping he would give in to her innocent charm, sadly it didn’t seem to be useless on Paladins.

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He replied.

“Why not?”

He shook his head. “It is not my place, my lady.” She sighed loudly and decided to leave it at that – for now.

 

“We’re here!” Bishop called “Home of some old farts who can shout really loud and sit around doing nothing with their life.” Bishop announced as they finally reached the stone structure stood before them.

“That’s rude.” She scolded. She looked over at the Paladin who was silent, admiring to structure. She noticed his trembling lips as he was suppressing shivers from the biting cold.

 _Oh Cas,_ She smiled and threw the cape around him, this time holding it tight. Casavir’s eyes snapped to her as she fastened the lace to his armour.

“What about you?” He said through chattering teeth. She giggled softly and rolled her eyes.

“We’re here now.” She said. “C’mon!” He followed close behind her as she ran to the doors, the icy wind already spiking at her body.  
The inside was equally impressive. It was eerily silent as they stood in  the doorway. “I’ll be right back, wait here.” She said as she went to go find the Greybeards. Bishop sat on the bench sharpening his knife and Casavir warmed himself by the small fire while looking around at the ancient structure in amazement. _Such fine stonework_ , he thought.

Casavir had read books about many old and current traditions still practiced, he always found the way of the voice and the Greybeards most interesting of all practices. _How could a mortal, small and minute compared to a dragon, harber such intense power?_ He always thought. He had seen mages harness powers of fire and ice, lighting, even shifting earth and conjuring creatures from the depths of oblivion. But he would never have believed of the Dragonborn’s abilities if he had not witnessed it for his own eyes.

His attention was brought to voices, echoing from the corridor where she was walking back, alongside an old man draped in thick grey robes. Three more walked behind silently and stood at the corners of square carved into the ground with some kind of markings. _These must be the Greybeards._

She came over and gave Casavir another one of those beautiful smiles which always made his heart swell, _Oh Gods…_ He thought.

“Could you hold this a moment please?” She asked politely holding out her bag.

“Of course.” He took it from her without hesitation and gulped hard when the rough leather of his gauntlets touched her delicate hands.

“Thank you.” She smiled and went back to the Greybeards. One man silently guided her to the centre of the carved stone and began the trial.

 

“Now, you will face the voice of Greybeards and be truly welcomed into order.” One spoke, presumably their leader, before they began. She nodded and glanced over at the Paladin who gave her a reassuring bow of his head. Unknowingly giving her some of his strength. Thick bellowing echoes of thundering voices filled the room, the floor shook and the fires burnt low. Casavir had to steady himself on the wall as he watched in awe, she seemed immune to the thundering voices.

Casavir could not understand the voices, all speaking in a tongue he did not know, though it was similar dialect to the words his lady would speak as she released her Thu’um. Casavir had heard about this in a book he had once read. This was the initiation ritual, to welcome a new member of the group. The Greybeard’s were well known for their solitary confinement, their practices rarely seen by any who are non members, so it was an honor to be allowed to witness such a thing. He was in pure amazement when he witnessed the power they wielded.  
When they were finished, she came walking over with a huge grin on her face and a bounce in her step.

“Well done princess.” Bishop wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big squeeze making her giggle more. Casavir looked down at the burning embers, feeling himself bristle at her invasion of personal space, how could she allow that man to come so close? What in oblivion did she see in that Ranger?!

“Are you warming up yet?” Her voice brought him out of his thoughts as she placed a hand on his shoulder. He nodded.

“Yes, thank you my lady. May I congratulate you on you initiation. It was a privilege to watch.” He stood and bowed his head formally to her.

“Why, thank you Sir Casavir.” She beamed even more giving him a little curtsy making him chuckle, shaking his head. “Just Casavir, my lady.”

A deep whisper filled the room and made her turn and walk to the Greybeards who were waiting for her.

“You know, everybody has a breaking point.” Bishop said, coming up alongside him, both Bishop and Casavir watched her.

“I fail to see the relevance.” Casavir replied flatly.

“Oh don’t play noble with me, I see the way you look at her. It’s only a matter of time till you break, you won’t even think – you’ll just….”

“I find our conversations extremely tiring and quite frankly a waste of time. So do be silent.”

“What ever, but it’s not the first time you’ve been head over heels for someone. Even killed for their affection.” Bishop sniggered.

Casavir was silent, his jaw tensed as the memories came rolling back. He’d been so foolish in love. He fell too hard and too fast and in the end it only left him a broken man, shattered him into a thousand pieces that were impossible to put back together.

“Wow, the mighty Paladin is lost for words!” Bishop tutted.

“Tell me Bishop… does she know?”

“About how desperately you want to bed her? No. I’ll leave you to tell her that.” He taunted more.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“So you’re not denying you want a drink from her cup?”

Casavir paused and balled up his fists, Casavir was a patient man but Bishop always knew which strings to pull.

“Then I shall leave it you, to tell her how many innocent people you have murdered, just to feel the weight of coin in your pocket.” He replied and walked towards his lady who was waving him over, leaving Bishop who fell silent.  
She waved Casavir over with a smile. “This is Casavir, a Paladin from the temple of the Divines.” She introduced him as she took his hand and pulled him forward. Casavir got another flutter in his stomach which turned into a burning urge to…. _Pull yourself together man!_

“It is an honor to meet a Paladin of the Divines. I must say, it has been many decades since we have seen a Paladin step foot in Skyrim. We thought Paladins had slipped into ancient history.” Master Arngeir greeted him.

“The honor is mine, sir. I assure you the knights of the nine are very real.” Casavir bowed his head and placed his fist on his steel chest plate.  
She beamed a smile and left them to talk as Casavir had many questions to ask them and Master Arngeir had some too. To say that the Greybeard’s did not show interest in worldly events, they were very interested in the Paladin.

She walked up to Bishop who was sat resting his head in his hands and looking down at the floor.

“You’re awfully quiet.” She said making her presence know.

“Just thinking, ladyship.”

“Wow. Sounds painful.”

Bishop laughed and waned a smile at her. Then it began to fade again.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Sharis. I’ve been wondering… do we really need him trailing along with us?”

She froze, since when has he called me by my name?

“Bishop we’ve been through this already. I need all the help I can get. He’s the brawn, I’m the brains and you’re the stealthy… hunter.”

“I can be the brawn. We don’t need him following us around like some clanking metal can.” Bishop spat. “And he snores!”

“He doesn’t snore!” She laughed.

“He does!”

“So do you, and Karnwyr!” She gestured to the wolf curled up by Bishops feet.

“Ladyship, I’m being serious.” He growled and took hold of her hands, his eyes were soft, desperation deep set in his burning bronze eyes. “Get rid of the Paladin… We don’t need him. I can be the brawn, I will be, whatever you want me to be…” Bishop said as he held his hands in hers, his deep amber eyes focusing on hers. He glanced from her eyes to her lips several times.

“Bishop I -”  
“My lady?” Deep familiar voice distracted her, she looked up to see Casavir stood before her. “The Master’s wish to speak with you, my lady.”

She nodded and turned to Bishop. “Can we talk about this later?”

“I was done talking anyway!” Bishop snapped angrily and screwed his face up in frustration. She let out a sigh and got up to talk to the Masters, leaving Bishop and Casavir alone again. Casavir remained silent and resigned as always. But he wondered what they had been talking about.  _S_ _hould I ask her?_ He thought. _Don’t be a snoop!_  
“I will break you, Paladin.” Bishop broke the silence. “I will break you… And when you do… I will relish in watching you suffer as you realize you failed. And I won.”

Casavir was silent at first but he was tired of Bishop constantly taunting him. “What’s the matter Bishop?… Did I strike a nerve?” Bishop was silent again. _Finally,_ Casavir thought with a pleased grin.

Suddenly Bishop’s fist collided painfully with Casavir’s face, making him stagger back. Another strike came again making him Casavir collapse to his knees. He could taste fresh blood in his mouth.

“You bastard!” Bishop had snapped, pacing towards the kneeling Paladin.

“HEY!” A voice called out but he didn’t hear it. Casavir stayed knelt on one knee. He saw Bishop coming in to swing his boot into Casavir’s face but he caught it and punched Bishop’s kneecap back making the Ranger roar in agony and collapse on the floor too.  
“What are you doing?! Stop!” Delicate hands tried to pull them apart as Bishop pounced at Casavir. There was no reasoning with the Ranger, he had lost all sense of humanity with only hatred fueling his attack, Karnwyr came bounding over circling them with snarls and barks as he watched.

“I’ll kill you!” Bishop snarled, almost frothing through his snarling teeth.

He resembled a savage wolf going in for the kill. Eyes burning with rage and desire to kill, his hair was more disheveled than before, resembling that of a mad man. He clung to Casavir tightly as he delivered blow after blow to his face. “Bishop stop!” Small hands still desperately trying to pull them apart.  
“ENOUGH!” A thundering echo shook the room. Bishop paused looking at Casavir now blooded face.

Casavir threw him off and began to climb to his feet. She pounced at the space between them to keep them apart. _What just happened?!_ She turned her back for a minute and…. She looked at the Greybeard’s, they looked disgusted. Horrified!

“I’m so sorry.” She said in a shaky voice.

“I think it’s time for you and your… FRIENDS… leave.” Master Arngeir replied coldly.

Casavir looked down at her, she was shaking and looked so ashamed. _My lady._

She spun on her heel and walked out with haste. Casavir followed after her quick on her heels and then Bishop and Karnwyr.  
Now outside, she stormed down the steps and paused taking huge gulps of cold air to clear her mind, desperately trying to breath out the embarrassment, the anger that was continuing to build inside her. She turned abruptly to see her Paladin, his face battered and covered with blood from his fresh wounds. She bit her down on her lower lip quickly as it began to tremble. Then Bishop came hobbling down the steps, even with an injured knee he looked like he was ready to go again.

“What the fuck, WAS THAT!” She shouted the last two words. Bishop didn’t reply and just looked away. Casavir eyes were downcast, he didn’t know what to say.

“You just embarrassed me in front of the Greybeards. I doubt they’ll ever let me inside again.”

“Oh come now Princess, that was probably the most action they’ve seen in years.” Bishop tried to joke but she wasn’t in the slightest interested in his jokes.

“I will shout you off this mountain Bishop! Now answer me!” She screamed.  
“It’s my fault, my lady.” Casavir spoked. She turned to him, her eyes softened when she saw the guilt in his, but mostly because she was hurt. She felt betrayed, she expected this behaviour from Bishop, not him!

“I… I provoked him.”

“… Why?” asked, her trembling voice etched with suppressed anger.

Casavir sighed. “He commented about my past, which I won’t go into-”

“Oh why not Casi? I’m sure ladyship would love to know your history.” Bishop interrupted, limping over.

“And I’m sure she would love to know your’s too!” Casavir bellowed, wiping the fresh stream of blood from his mouth.

“What?” She exclaimed, completely baffled, “What are you going on about?!” A flood of emotions came at her all at once, drowning her in confusion.

“He was sweet on a girl ounce. Fell hard and fa-” Bishop began but Casavir grabbed him by the throat and lifted him inches off the ground.

“Put him down!” She ordered. Casavir did as his lady commanded but dreaded the thought of what Bishop would say next.

“As I was saying-” Bishop began again. _This man has a death wish!_ Casavir thought.

“I don’t want to hear it!” She cut him off. “You…!  Both of you….! You embarrassed me in there. I can’t believe you would do such a thing. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.” She began. “I’m so tired of this! Being stuck between you two all the time. I thought if you would both just give each other a chance… to understand one another. Perhaps you would get along. But it appears I was wrong…” She voice began to crack, her body shaking either with the anger or the cold.

“My lady…” Casavir tried to speak, plead for forgiveness but she wouldn’t hear it.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Her voice trembled along with her lip, tears building up to tears and beginning to fall down her cheeks.  
“It’s time we part ways.” She said after pausing to compose herself.

“My lady please.” Casavir begged, she saw pain and desperation in his eyes as he drew closer to her. His deep warm voice left her breathless as she looked at her Paladin who had taken such a beating and Bishop walked out with just a limping leg.

She could feel herself giving into him, his eyes that once always showed strength and control looked lost, pleading with her. He stepped closer, his steel blue eyes fixed on hers. She wanted him to hold her, wrap his arms around her and forget this happened. But her hurt was too raw, the Greybeard’s expressions of disgust came to mind and blew away any forgiveness she had for the Paladin, or the Ranger.  
“No!” She shouted, pushing him back hard. She spun on her heel and took off down the mountain.

“My lady!”

“Sharis! Wait!” Bishop shouted but she was off, nothing was stopping her.

Bishop began the chase and Casavir followed. They tried to keep up, but she was fast. The fact she didn’t have heavy armour or a great deal of supplies weighing her down gave her the advantage.

“Karnwyr go get her!” Bishop shouted as Karnwyr took off at full speed. Bishop struggled to keep up with him limp but he pushed himself on, refusing to let the Paladin get to her first. They heard her Thu’um echo on the wind and knew she would be a great distance away now.

“This is your fault, Paladin!”

“My fault?!” Casavir snapped as he kept a good pace outrunning Bishop.

“Yes! Your fault! Ever since that damn ball she’s gone all soft, you’ve warped her mind with your false fantasies of goodness and light. I should never agreed to let you tag along. It was either me or you!”

“You gave her a ultimatum?! Why in God’s names would you do such a thing?”

“Because! She’s mine! I won’t let you take her from me!” Bishop glaring over at Casavir, his foot catching a stone making him tumble over. Casavir slowed, stuck with either to help Bishop or leaving him wounded on the mountain to chase after his lady.  
He groaned in annoyance as he turned back to help Bishop. Being a Paladin, he was sworn to help those who needed him, a curse at this moment. But also he had a debt to repay.

“Fuck off Paladin. I don’t want your help.” Bishop snarled as he clasped his knee tightly.

“Call it a debt repayment. Now shut up and hold still.” Casavir sighed as he knelt down to use his healing powers on his knee.

“I said fuck off!” Bishop spat in annoyance trying to kick Casavir with his good leg. Casavir caught it quickly and held on tightly, using his healing to course through the ranger to his knee. Bishop struggled against it like a child in a tantrum but Casavir didn’t let it faze him.  
“Get off me whore spawn!” Bishop spat in Casavir’s face.

The healing stopped, as if Casavir had turned to stone, staring at the Ranger who glared hatefully back at him. _THAT’S IT_! Casavir’s eyes turned furious as he swung a truly horrific punch into the Rangers face making him flop straight on his back, making a mangled snow angel in the snow. Mumbling something through his bloodied mouth, completely dazed by the strike. Casavir reeled in his anger and continued to heal the Ranger’s leg. He took relief in that one hit. He had to admit… it felt good.

When he was done he simply threw Bishop’s leg aside to avoid being kicked by the feral savage and set off down the mountain to find her.  
<p style=”text-align: center;”>xxx</p>  
_Why? Why would they do that to me?_ She thought as she ran as fast as her feet could carry her.

She heard her name echoing on the wind. A part of her screamed for her to go back, and another part demanded her to ignore them. _No! No turning back! It’s better this way…_  She tried to convince herself.

 _“I will be anything for you.”_ Bishop’s words came back to haunt her. _What brought on such an intense exposure of feeling from him. Was he telling her then? were they arguing then?_ She slowed down a little, feeling her lungs about to burst. They wouldn’t catch up yet, surely not after she had used her whirlwind shout twice, Bishop was wounded and Casavir was.. well he’s wasn’t as quick with all that armour.  
She continued on, she just couldn’t face them again. _Why did they do that? They knew how important that was for me!_

The Greybeards faces came to mind again as shame and embarrassment filled her making tears fall from her face. she wanted to scream, she was so angry with them.

 _Casavir,_ she had introduced him to them and he goes and starts a fight with Bishop, in their house!?.

Casavir’s face came before her as she thought of him, she was so angry but… She wanted to turn back, she wanted him to hold her. His calm, he sturdy persona, his aura always made her feel at ease. Now she wasn’t so sure. _How could he do that?_ She cradled herself as sobs ran through her. The pain in her chest was indescribable, _what’s happening to me?_

She was shivering cold now, it was so cold without her or the Paladin’s cloak. She was so warm wearing his, so warm and protected. She longed to breath in his scent again, to feel it’s weight and warmth. She heard paws scratching on the stone steps a distance behind her, coming closer and heavy panting came with it.

“Karnwyr.” She said as she marched down the mountain, pretending to ignore him. Karnwyr came running past and jumped up at her licking at her salty tears.

“Oh Karnwyr, I’ll miss you. You smelly wolf.” She gave a weak, teary smile and pushed him down. though the bad breathed wolf was not the comfort she desired, it was what she needed. Karnwyr circled her, pressing his weight against her leg and attempting to climb up again.

“Will you walk with me?” She asked Karnwyr, like he was going to answer her. She gave him a scratch behind the ear and carried on down the mountain.

He followed her, sticking close to her side. She loved Karnwyr and started to wonder whether Bishop would mind if Karnwyr came with her. But Karnwyr would miss his brother, and it’d make it easier to find her. They walked down together until Ivarstead was in sight.

“OK, Karnwyr, you need to go back.” She said when his wet nose sniffed her fingers. She began to walk down the steps and felt Karnwyr’s nose again.

“I have to go Karnwyr.” She said as he whined and jumped up again.

“No Karnwyr! Go back!” She ordered. She stormed down the steps and suddenly felt a pull on her robes.

“Let go Karnwyr!” She saw a stick and picked it up, shaking in around before throwing it. “Fetch!” She shouted. Buut Karnwyr just stood in confusion before he came towards her again. “Go away!”

She felt horrible when she saw the great black wolf cower from her, but it was for the best.

“Go!” She shouted making him run back up the mountain. _I’m sorry Karnwyr._

She left Karnwyr howling for her as she walking down the final stretch of the steps. _This was the way it had to be._  
She couldn’t handle those two forever at each other’s throats. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how foolish she was thinking they could both get along.

They hated each other…. Casavir had been reasonable and somewhat had ignored the Ranger’s taunts, but Bishop had forever taunted Casavir, even spitting in his tea one night.

 _Was it really Casavir that started that fight?_ She thought as she crossed the bridge. His steel blue eyes flashed in her mind, they looked so pained, desperate for her not to leave. Tears fell from her face again as she swallowed down the lump in her throat. It was too late to go back now, she had to be gone before they returned to Ivarstead. She made haste through the town. pulling out her compass and map to find the direction of Kinesgrove, Delphine said she would meet her there. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too late.

She didn’t stop to collect Allie. Allie had been a gift from Casavir but some how it seemed wrong taking her now they had parted ways. She tried to keep her head low, hopefully people wouldn’t notice her walking through the town, she didn’t want them to find her, she didn’t want to be found. She didn’t stop for anyone and kept walking over the bridge and into the sea of autumn trees and lush foliage.


	6. Gone

_Please my lady. Don’t leave me!_ He charged down the mountain as fast as he could. The wind was fierce and the snow hurt when it struck his cheeks, still swollen and bruised he tried to keep the chase on. Shortly after Bishop finally caught up again with the new energy and strength, his face bearing the damage Casavir had left, just as messed up as his own. Casavir was tempted to continue the fight, but there was no time. He had to find her!  
There was no tracks on the mountain, the snowfall had covered them completely. Casavir continued down the mountain with Bishop close behind until they reached the final stretch and the town was in sight. After what felt like the most extreme challenge of stamina and their physical fitness they reached the bottom of the steps. Karnwyr was sat at the foot, uncharacteristically still, waiting patiently for his brother. “Where is she boy?” Bishop asked as he greeted him, Karnwyr’s ears rested back on his head and he was whimpering like a lost pup.  
“Where is she?” Casavir panted as he caught his breath, she was nowhere in sight. He scolded himself as he had regrettably hoped Karnwyr would have apprehended her somehow, in a way she would not be harmed of course!

“Karnwyr seems to have lost ladyship’s trail.” Bishop sighed, his voice breathed a careless tone.

 _The inn!_ Perhaps she was at the inn, _Please be at there!_  Casavir clicked the roof of his mouth in frustration of Bishop’s arrogance and barged past him setting off into a near run through the small village and over to the inn.  
“My lady?!” He called, crashing through the door with such a force it broke the handle off when he opened it. The inn fell silent and he was greeted by strangers puzzled and startled stares at the Paladin’s sudden entrance.

“Fuck sake Paladin! She’s gone!” Bishop said as he snatched the handle out Casavir’s hand and handed it to the innkeeper. “Karnwyr can’t pick up her scent, she doesn’t want to be followed.”  
“No! She has to be somewhere!” He refused to face it. “Has anyone seen a young woman we were with the other night?… A Breton mage?… The Dragonborn?” Casavir asked everyone. The inn was silent. Everyone stealing glances at one another in their awkward silence, some turned away and carried on with what they were doing and others continued to stare. Either way his question was left unanswered.

Casavir’s heart sank, it finally hit him, he felt it. The pained ache in his chest, like an infection it built inside him and welled all over himself. His knees shook, threatening to collapse under him with exhaustion and loss of will.  
“When are you going to get it through that thick skull?! She’s gone… G. O. N. E. GONE!” Bishop waltzed over to the bar. Casavir was at the brink of his self control. The rage swirled around his bleeding heart and he wanted to yell, the Ranger’s careless and arrogance was driving him mad. The fact that he had attacked him! This was all his fault! Everything! The Ranger was pure evil! Through and through.

Casavir stormed after him, a face like thunder. “Shut your mouth! This is your blasted fault Ranger! If you… !”

“I saw her.” A wood elf walked over cautiously, wary of breaking up the row.

Casavir’s anger stepped back as he spun around to the sound of hope. “Where? when?” Breathing a sigh of relief, blinking back a sting of joyful tears that suddenly rushed to his eyes.

“A while back now, she went past the lumber mill. She looked really upset, is she ok?” He asked rather concerned.

“Did you see where she went?” Casavir asked desperately, oblivious to the wood elf’s question.

“No sorry. Did something happen?” The wood elf asked again, as he looked at their bloodied faces and dishevelled appearance.

“Yes… HE happened.” Casavir growled gesturing to the Ranger who was sat at the with a bottle of mead. His back turned to them.

“Thank you, sir.” Casavir nodded to the elf.

“I hope you find her.” Wood elf replied taken aback by the Paladin referring to him as sir.  
Casavir headed back outside and began questioning anyone he saw. They all said the same thing. They saw her, but they didn’t see her leave. Perhaps she never left? Perhaps she is hiding somewhere? Allie was still at the stables. She wouldn’t leave without her horse… would she? He scouted the entire village, even contemplating whether she would have wandered into the Barrow… _Doubt that_ , he thought. She was adventurous and brave but she wasn’t stupid.

He tried his luck and asked a group of children who were playing by the stream, there was hope!  
“The Dragonborn? She’s the pretty Breton woman in the battle mage clothes right?” The eldest girl, around the age of nine asked.

“Yes! Yes that’s her. Brown hair, hazel eyes.” Casavir smiled as he knelt down to their level. He rummaged frantically through his satchel and pulled out his journal flicking through the pages to the page where he had drawn her once, sat by the campfire howling at the moon with Karnwyr.

“She looks like this.” He showed them the drawing. Their eyes widened as they looked at the picture.

“Yeah that’s her!” The little boy shouted. He felt his weak beating heart pick up a little more as hope came back to him.

“What happened to your face?” A very small girl asked as she touched his cheek. _Damn, this face must look rather frightening to them._ He had healed the cuts but he had left it too long and now the bruises were there to stay.

“Err.. I was… battling with a savage.” He replied with a playful grin. Making his heated ordeal into a fun story for them.

“Cool! A savage?” The boy exclaimed excitedly. Casavir chuckled weakly.

“Now, please? Would you kindly tell me which way she went?” Casavir asked in a soft warm voice as he put away his journal. The young toddler was holding his cheeks now, her tiny dainty fingers squishing his cheek as she laughed. Ok, it was rather tender but he didn’t want to rob her of her entertainment. Not when she had such an adorable laugh.

“She went that way!” The boy answered pointing out into the Rift’s colourful forest of autumn trees.

“She was crying, did someone hurt her?” The girl asked.

Casavir felt like someone had stabbed his heart with a blunt weapon, he paused before he answered. “Yes.”

“Was it the Savage?” The boy asked.

“… Yes… But I am also to blame.” There was silence for a few moments, then the little girl started to rub his cheek.

“Mama says you have to say sorry to people you hurt.” The young toddler said, ever so innocently. “If you say sorry and give her a big hug she’ll be ok.”  
_Oh how I wish it was that simple_ , he gave another weary smile. He longed to hold her again, to hold her tightly, he wanted to apologize, he longed to make things right. If he hadn’t teased Bishop, he wouldn’t have lashed out in such a way.

“Yes, but first I must find her.” Casavir nodded as he took the young girl’s hands away and held it gently.

Casavir enjoyed watching the children’s faces of curiosity and admiration. He was not vain, not in the slightest! But he held his title proudly and appreciated the children’s fascination. He was taken back by the young girl’s boldness. She was now happily resting, practically leaning against his chest plate, fearless of being so close to a stranger. Her innocence and curiosity comforted his breaking heart.  
The toddler had hazel eyes too, just like his lady, only they were more brown than green. She was small and still had her baby pudge, possibly just seen her third autumn.

Looking into her eyes reminded him of his lady, his dear Sharis. Even though she was strong, brave and occasionally quite fierce. She still held an innocence about her which Casavir had a desire to protect. To hold…. to love?

 _Love… oh gods… is that what this is?!_  
“Why are you crying?” The little girl asked when she saw the sadness in his eyes. She reached up with her other small chubby fingers and caught a tear that had fallen from his cheek.

_I’m crying? Damn._

“Ah, just something in my eyes.” Casavir smiled and blinked away the tears he never realized were there. “I must go and find her now, thank you. You have been very helpful.” He smiled warmly to them and they smiled back.

“Here, something for you all.” He handed a small bag of gold to the eldest girl who smiled from ear to ear looking at her brother.

“Thank you!” The boy said as he took the young toddlers hand and began to pull her away from the Paladin, her eyes turned sad as they parted.

“Good day, little lady.” He said as he kissed her small chubby hand which made her smile broadly.

“Mama look!” The eldest ran up to her mother who was sat watching on the porch, she handed her mother the bag of coins and smiled.

Casavir bowed with his fist against his aching heart and walked away to get some ice for his face.  
_________________________________________  
The evening was waning and people were retiring from their hard work for the day. Bishop sat on the steps of the Inn with Karnwyr, guilt panging in him and slight fear, for many reasons. Casavir came out of the Inn holding ice crystals on his face to ease the swelling. Still wearing his armour and geared up with fresh supplies ready for the journey.  
“You going after her?” Bishop frowned when he saw Casavir place the ice aside and adjust his belt.

“I will not abandon her now. I must right the wrong I have done.” He replied sternly.

“She doesn’t want you Casavir, she doesn’t want us. What’s the point!” Bishop groaned as he stared into the bottle of his mead.

“I still have a debt to repay.”

“Why don’t you just go home! You’ve been nothing but a pain in everyone’s ass since the day you stepped off the boat.” Bishop snarled.

“Unlike you Bishop! I keep to my promises, and I do not turn away from an obstacle that stands before me.”

Bishop rolled his eyes and looked back down at his hands wrapped around the bottle. Grazed and still red from punching Casavir’s face repeatedly, he had to admit… all that hatred and anger for Casavir and the moment he finally broke free and used his face as a punch bag felt great! Even if it meant he was now in this situation.

“Bishop.” Casavir said making Bishop lookup. “If you ever call me by that name again, I will not hesitate to put an end to you.” Casavir spoke in dark tone the words seemed to roll out of his mouth like smoke and his eyes darkened, the Ranger suddenly felt a spike of fear as he looked up at the Paladin.

“Well. That was what they called you, wasn’t it?” Bishop shrugged. Quickly concealing himself.

“That was a long time ago, Ranger. I mean it. Do not test me!” Casavir growled. Bishop shrugged again and looked away.  
Casavir headed for his horse, before he lost his patience. He saddled up his steed ready to go. If the children were telling the truth then that meant she had also left Her Allie here. Her supplies off the saddle were gone but her horse still stood in the stables where she left her. The idea she left Allie behind was like she had rejected his gift to her, which only dug the blunt blade deeper into his chest.

Rather than losing such a fine horse to a greedy stable master, he attached the reins to his saddle and set off to find his lady. He would find her, do whatever she commanded of him to make things right and he would present her with his gift once again.

After a short while after crossing the bridge he noticed something stuck in a tree, it surely was not an animal because the tree was not strong enough to hold any large beast. As he drew closer he realized it was a piece of clothing, but not just any piece of material. _The hold’s banner? No, it was the wrong colour._

“The cloak!” He gasped dismounting his horse and pulling it off the tree, he rolled it up under his arm.

He remembered the walk up the mountain and how she nearly fell off because of this damn thing. He despised the thing at the time as it put her in harm’s way but now he found himself smiling when he remember how lovely she looked in his cloak, how it drowned her but she looked so beautiful.  
All these things she had left behind,like footprints in the sands, telling him she was real, she wasn’t a dream or a figment of his imagination. She was out there. Somewhere, she was real! she was alive! She was… alone… hurt…. _God’s help me find her._

He held the cloak in his hands, staring down at the roughly made tailorship and the scars left from constant rushed repairs. He suddenly grew curious as he mounted his horse. He lifted her cloak to his face and inhaled deeply. A warm delicate scent permeated his senses. Floral and seductive, fresh like the mildew of the flower fields of the wilds. It was her, he could smell her, he groaned involuntarily as her bright and beautiful eyes and loving smile came into mind and with it came the pure heartbroken expression she gave him on the mountain, _What have I done_ … No way would he let her go. He blinked back the tears that stung his eyes, his heart felt the blunt blade take another twist around in his chest.

No way in all oblivion’s hells was he going to give up on her.  
She was out there. Somewhere, she was alone, hurting from what he had done to her. He had to make things right!  
He rubbed Sharis’s cloak against his face hoping some of her scent may cling to his skin. He could no longer deny that she was meant something to him, so much it pained him so much like a mother who lost her babe.

He stopped when he remembered the Rangers taunts about him having to Paladin time.

 _Damn Ranger!_ He snarled, then paused in thought for a moment… _The Ranger…. Her cloak…_ he had her scent! Bishop was a tracker, Karnwyr was obliviously a master hunter, he could use this to track her down. There was still hope! Casavir turned his horse around and headed back to town and found Bishop still in the same place he left him.  
“Bishop. Karnwyr, he’s a wolf.” Casavir said as he walked up to him.

“Oh for fuck sake!… Please do not tell me you just figured that out?” Bishop rolled his eyes and shuffled in his seat, clearly disappointed to see the Paladin was back.

“Karnwyr can track something using only scent, correct?” Casavir ignored the sarcastic, vulgar remark.

“Yes, but we need the scent first, and incase you once again weren’t listening, Your lady has concealed her scent from us.”

 _MY lady?…_ Some reason hearing that made his aching heart skip a little. Casavir could feel the first pang of anger bubbling again.

“I discovered her cloak on the road.” Casavir replied containing himself.

“Really! So you expect me to track her down?” Bishop sniggered.

“Not you! Karnwyr.”

Bishop sighed again. “Look Paladin… Just face it! She doesn’t want us following her. She’s hidden herself well, Karnwyr isn’t picking up anything.”

“Well what if he tried at the bridge?” Casavir said, pointing to where he just came. Bishop slouched back on the bench against the wall and looked up at him.  
“She’s a big girl, perfectly capable of holding her own out there! Why should we go after her?”

Casavir gripped the cloak hard as he refrained from striking him. He was well aware she was capable, he never doubted her. But he couldn’t bare the fact he had shamed her in a way she had run off – alone! He had to make things right. He couldn’t bare the thought of her inquisitive nature leading her to a ruin only to get her killed and knowing he hadn’t been there to protect her… or a bandits arrow piercing her and he wasn’t there to heal her.  
“WE made this happen!” Casavir said. “Bishop, we owe her an apology, don’t you want to make it up to her?!” Bishop said nothing and looked away.

“…. I’m wasting time with you.” Casavir growled and marched back to his horse. He set off again with haste, his idea of joining forces to find her had failed and had cost him precious time.

The sun had fallen in the sky. It was dark now, and the guards said the roads were perilous at night, surely she would not be so foolish enough to travel through the night.

It had been hours now and not a single trace of her. _Damn it!_ He struggled again with the choice of continuing on, in hopes of finding her or to shelter for the night. He even wondered whether the children had been telling the truth?

_She could have paid them to just tell him that?_

_Don’t be ridiculous, Casavir! She wouldn’t do that… would she?_

_No._

_Surely she would have taken shelter._

_But what if she’s just further on?_

_She wouldn’t risk traveling at night, she wouldn’t be so foolish._  
He sighed, downhearted. When it became too treacherous and he no longer could see the road ahead, he had no other choice but to set up camp for the night. He settled down under the shelter of trees and built a fire before settling to two horses.

_I’ll set off first light, hopefully I’ll catch her in the morning._

_Please be safe, my lady._

One night turned into a day… a day to into days… days turned into a week. Still the brave Paladin didn’t give up, wandering the Rift alone and blindly following the directions strangers gave him. Casavir had asked everyone he met on his travels if they had seen her and followed their instructions, but he was a foreigner in these lands. He did not know where he was going and was vulnerable, relying on the directions of strangers. For all he knew they could be guiding him to a bandit camp, not like it mattered, he had to find her – he’d probably ask the bandits if they had seen her too.

Every night he would think of her before sleep, wake up in cold sweats from the same damn dream. He took comfort holding her cloak close to him as he slept, her scent would always calm him from his waking panic. It brought her face to him, that smile that would light up the room. Her eyes that would make him forget the oath he took.

_Where was she?_

_What was she doing at that moment?_

_Is she safe? What is she thinking of?_ Casavir prayed to the Gods he would see her again.  
One night when he was sitting by his fire, her cloak rolled up on his lap as he played with a piece of lavender flower he had picked, remembering her habit. He turned to stone, as his senses honed in on the sounds around him, he heard a snapping of twigs. His eyes looked up from his hands to see a great black wolf with molten eyes staring back at him.

“Hello Karnwyr.” He said as the wolf proceeded to walk calmly around and sit himself by the fire. He looked further out into the black as the Ranger came out of the dark.

“You are not as concealed as you wish to think.” Casavir watched as Bishop strolled past and made himself comfortable at the fire. “Still could have killed you before you could have spotted me.”

“Yes, you keep telling yourself that.” Casavir said coldly tossing the lavender into the fire. “Why are you here?”

“You were right.” Bishop sighed.

Casavir cocked an eyebrow as he said this.  _Was he hearing correctly?_

“Sharis would have headed to Kynesgrove. Delphine said the next dragon resurrection would be there.” Bishop said, scooping a mug full of stew from the cooking pot.

“Delphine..?”

“Ladyship not tell you about her? Or were you just not listening?” Bishop sneered, Casavir looked at the burning embers.

He did remember her speaking of a woman. When she was in his room in Solitude. The memory came back of her radiant smile and her serene eyes. Oh how he missed her. Gods he missed her.

“So where can we find this Delphine?”

“In Riverwood. it’ll take us about four, maybe five days to get there. But we should head to Kynesgrove. Ladyship will be there or still on the road.”

“How sure are you?” Casavir asked. He still did not trust Bishop, even if they were working together.

“You want me to join forces with you, then when I do you you still don’t trust me? I should have just left you to wander the wilderness like the fool you are.” Bishop shook his head. “Tell me Paladin? What would I get if I lead you off on a wild goose chase? Not only would I be stuck with your boring ass but I would waste time I could be using to track her down.”

Casavir stayed silent. Bishop had a point, if they were going to be working together he needed to…. TRUST, Bishop. Not something that came easy to the Paladin.

“Kynesgrove is just over the hot springs. If we set off first light we’ll get there within the hour.” Bishop said with a mouthful of stew. _At least the foods not going to waste,_ Casavir thought as he ignored the Ranger’s disgusting table manners and looked down at the embers.

“Very well.” Casavir grunted and rested back on his bedroll, wrapping himself in his cloak.

“You take first watch then.” He said as he pulled his hood over his eyes.

 

_________________________________________

 

> _Casavir was asleep, deep in his dreams._
> 
> _Flowers in hand and practically skipping up the stone steps, he was so happy. This was it, he didn’t care what his friends told him – liars, the lot of them._
> 
> _He was going to marry this woman, his love – the only good thing left in his life._
> 
> _He had the ring, gold with a white diamond. It cost almost all his savings but it was worth it for her._
> 
> _He stepped through the doors and walked with a proud bounce in his step. The entire room fell silent – bar the musicians in the background as he strode past the crowd of drunks and to her chambers._
> 
> _“Casavir, lad. I wouldn’t go up there.” One man said as he headed upstairs. Casavir ignored him, he would not listen to them anymore._
> 
> _Life had been cruel to young Casavir. He would not allow corruption to take away the one shred of happiness this woman gave to him._
> 
> _“Casavir! – ? Sh… shouldn’t you be on guard duty?” A maid dropped her fresh washed linen she was carrying in shock of seeing him, traces of panic on her face._
> 
> _“I got the day off, I thought I would surprise her.” He chortled with a huge smile._
> 
> _“No! Don’t go in-”_  
>  _He turned the handle and walked in with a huge smile on his face. “Ophala are y-”_
> 
> _Ice water filled his veins as he took in the sight of his lady in bed… in bed with another man…_
> 
> _“Casavir! What are you… Oh Gods…” Ophala gasped as the two scrambled away from one another._
> 
> _This was a trick…. This had to be. Only he knew it wasn’t.  This man dare defile her!_
> 
> _“You bastard, get away from her!” He bellowed. Taking a step forward, he froze in mid step when he caught sight of the man._
> 
> _… no… no…_  
>  _The next thing he knew, he was running. Running frantically through the halls, blood soaking his body and people’s eyes looked at him, horrified. His heart pounded furiously in his chest as it was torn away from anything but betrayal. The screams echoed through the halls as he ran away. His feet couldn’t get him away fast enough._  
>  _“God’s man! What have you done!?”  One onlooker said, trying to grab him._  
>  _“Casavir?! What’s happened?” His friend asked when he saw Casavir crash through the doors and onto the streets._  
>  _The screams grew louder, a piercing shrill in his ears. He kept running, as fast as his disorientated self to take him, people gasped and shocked as they saw him, his surrounding began to distort, the shadows around him began to shift and run of colour._
> 
> _Bursting through the doors of the temple, he fell to his knees. The only place he felt safe, ever since a boy, his only sanctuary.  He crawled on his hands and knees and curled up under the statute of Stendarr. His whole body shook as gulping aired cries wracked through him._
> 
> _“Forgive me… please… forgive me?” The distant cries and screams of his pursuers becoming demonic and turned to ear piercing shrieks…_
> 
> _“Casavir….?” He recognised that voice, that angelic voice. He turned to meet the owner of the voice to see Sharis stood at the foot of the alters looking at him with horror and disbelief. “How could you….?” Her whisper stung his ears._
> 
> _“My lady?…! No, please. I…. I….” He blubbered reaching out for her but she stepped back. Her beautiful face turned distorted, with one blink her eyes turned back and her mouth opened wider than nature would have allowed._
> 
> _“HOW COULD YOU!!” Her screech pierced his ears painfully and he felt blood leak from them, he fell to the floor and looked up as those words came again…_
> 
>  

“NOOO!” Casavir shot up out of his bedroll. The screeching in his dream was just a fox somewhere in the forest. The wetness he felt from his ears was his tears that had fallen into from his eyes. He gulped in the cold air, taking long steady breaths.

_What just happened?!_

_It was just a dream._

_No! She was there! She’s there too?!_

_Calm yourself Casavir._

_Why do the Gods hate me so! Hasn’t my suffering appeased them yet?!_  
He wiped the fresh tears from his face, that was no way to think. He remembered where he was and who he was with, his eyes snapped over at Bishop who thankfully was asleep, sprawled out with Karnwyr who was watching him with those molten gold eyes.

Casavir was surprised he had managed to get any sleep, baring in mind he didn’t trust Bishop as far as he could throw him and the fact Casavir had no choice but to set up camp on the stoney ground made it terrible to sleep on.  
He reached for her cloak, burying his face into the fabric as he breathed in her scent again. Her beautiful smile came to him, her dazzling hazel eyes turned black and her laugh turned demonic. He gasped and pulled away.  
_Do you hate me now?_  He felt a fresh tear fall down his cheek. He had to fix this, He couldn’t go on without her forgiveness, he couldn’t live with the thought she hated him. He got up and put his sword on his back and picked up his satchel he’d been using as a pillow. He used a small beck to wash his face, a splash of icy water woke him up.  
_Need to shave,_ He thought as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. He used the knife in his boot and glided it slowly and carefully along his jaw, giving him a clean shave with one stroke.

Casavir thought to himself as he looked over at the snoring Ranger. Did he really want to be travelling with Bishop? He hated Bishop.  
Bishop had given him a lead. Did he really need him. Casavir sighed.  
“Bishop, wake up.” Casavir attempted to wake him as he put his blade back in his boot and walked over to the Ranger. “Bishop.” Bishop just rolled over.  
_Fine._ Casavir thought. “You’ll have to catch up.”

Casavir readied his horses and set off towards the dry springs.  _Please be there….?_


	7. Lonely road

_This was such a foolish thing to do… running off like that…. People get killed doing foolish things like this!_ She thought, picking herself up from the dirt after her whirlwind shout for a swift escape from a bear put her there. So nice that a pissed off bear would come over for dinner just as she was tucking herself into bed. She couldn’t see a damn thing in this pitch black, she cast a candlelight spell to catch her bearings and help her wade through the thick tangling grass until she came to a rock face.  
_I suppose this will have to do for the night._ She sighed collecting a handful of dry grass and snapping sticks from a dead fallen tree. She cast a soft flickering flame and blew the flames softly into the dead grass in her hands to light herself a fire.  
_What I wouldn’t give for my cloak right now._ She shivered. Huddling herself against the wall and shuffled away out of sight as she tried to warm herself by her small pathetic excuse for a campfire.  
“Fucking bear.” She grumbled.

It had been days now, she had tried to keep off the road the best she could to avoid being seen by the Paladin. She didn’t know whether he would be looking for her or heading back to Solitude but she didn’t want to take that risk.  
Bishop’s lessons were making themselves useful as she was covering her tracks and masking her scent the best she could encase the Ranger and his fluffy companion came looking. She couldn’t bare face them if they came looking for her. Even worse if she bumped into the Paladin! She wouldn’t be able to control herself. She missed her companions, she missed Bishop,she missed Karnwyr but most of all she missed Casavir.  
She missed his frigid form and his nervous smirk he always tried to contain. His cool blue eyes always came to her, those beautiful blue pools that portrayed so much emotion. Calm and soothing, they held so much tenderness and passion that he seemed to keep locked away inside. She remember the look in his eyes when she last saw him. They shone with hope, and a desperate longing, begging for her forgiveness.  
_“My lady please.”_ His plea came back to her, his voice resonated thickly and surrounded her. She quickly pushed the thought away as she felt the sting of fresh tears in her eyes and the painful throb of her heart. _This was for the best._ She thought closing her eyes and trying to think of something else as she to sank into sleep.

“Well… what do we have here?” A distant voice woke her from the black.  
“A young lass… alone in the wilderness?”  
“She must be lost.” One tutted.  
“She’s got pretty hair.” Another said, she could hear their evil sniggers in the back. He kept her head down and her eyes shut, her mer ears picking up on their every movements, they were getting closer.  
“I wonder is she has a pretty face.” One snorted as she heard the unsheathing of a small blade.  
“Pretty faces don’t matter when you need somewhere to bury your-”

 _Oh shit! I’m in trouble._ She heard them drawing closer, seven of them. All beginning to spread out and circle her.  
“Just grab her already. I ain’t had a good fuck in days.” One groaned, ruffling about with something that sounded like a belt. She heard them laugh wickedly keeping it quiet as possible as their footsteps grew closer a few feet away now. She took a deep breath and readied herself.

“Feim.” She felt lifted, weightless as she jumped to her feet. The thugs arms, slipped through her as she looked up wide eyes and walked gracefully through him.  
“It’s a fucking ghost!!” He cried, jumping back from her.  
_Ghost?…. Oh this is going to be goooodd._  
She quickly moved far enough from them and tried to playing as a corrupted spirit. Wailing like a banshee, holding her head and forcing sobs as she staggered about. She could hear the panic in their whimpers, unsure what to do. She looked up at them, her long waves all tangled and messy over her face and her eyes were hollow smoke.  
“YOU!!” She screamed as loud as she could, her own scream sounded disconnected from herself.  
“Fuck this shit!” One dropped his sword and ran for his life. One by one they turned and ran back from where they came.  
She noticed which one was speaking of defiling her by how he was the only man who was still there, clambering back on the floor as he had tripped over his own trousers.

“YYYOOOOUUUUU!!!” She screeched staggering towards him. His cloak caught to the roots of the dead tree. He was in such panic, he just cried and watched in horror as she stepped towards him.  
“Don’t kill me! Please?!” He begged holding his hands up to protect himself.  
“But I thought you wanted to bury yourself? Pretty faces matter not!” She hissed the last word. Her voice a whisper, scarily calm in this moment of terror. The man looked at her in shock, shame written on his face as he heard his own words repeated back to him.  
“How about I bury this inside you?” She teased swaying back and forth. He wailed in fear as he fought with his cloak again, then paused staring at her. Her thu’um was fading and he saw her return to her solid form.

“….ooops…” She stared at him blankly for a moment as they both took time to what their next steps were going to be.

**“You little bitch!” The man spat trying to unsheathe his blade, she wasted no time and darted towards him and stuck the knife between his ribs.**  
He gargled a groan as he gripped her hand and punched her hard in the face with the other. She fell back but jumped forward again and tackled the bandit pushing the blade deeper until he ceased to struggle and heard his last crackling breath.  
“I’m sorry.” She sighed, why did she feel bad killing him? He would have raped her – killed her.  
She cleaned her dagger with his armour and eyed his cloak untangling it from the roots. Burlap, rather worn out but it was better than nothing.  
_Well he’s not going to be needing that now._ She shrugged and fastened it to herself. _OK, I need to get away from here._ She thought wiping her bloodied lip and collecting her things. She had to leave, knowing men’s curiosity they would come back to seek out their friends fate. Luckily they hadn’t seen what had happened, they hadn’t seen they had been tricked and thankfully, dead men don’t talk. If his friends did come back they would just find his body and hopefully pin it down to the ghost they had just seen. **Hopefully.**

It had been so long since she had been on her own. It had been months since she had experienced the land of Skyrim by herself, it somehow felt colder, harder and more hostile to her now. She missed Bishop’s wicked and inappropriate remarks and snoring like a cave bear. She missed Karnwyr and his big wet kisses. She missed Casavir and his…  
Casavir… her heart ached when she allowed herself to think of him. She missed the creaks of his armour, looking round to see his large powerful form stood beside her. She missed his calm, his solidity, his accent. Oh that voice!

 _You could go back? He’ll be heading back to Solitude._  
I can’t go back.  
Yes you can?  
No, I can’t. It’s for the best! She hushed herself and her wandering thoughts.

Morning came and she set off again, off to Kynesgrove, where Delphine said the next dragon would be awakening.  
She was thankful when she bumped into a Khajiit merchants on the road and they graciously allowed her to travel with them. It wasn’t so bad anymore, she traveled with them until they reached Riften then she caught a trader’s caravan to Windhelm.  
Having company was nice, she listened intently to the Carriage driver as he told her about his life story. He was a father of three, two girls and one boy. He would make these trips back and forth for a few months and would come home and spend time with his family. Travelling on the roads was always a dangerous job, even more so now the Dragon’s had returned, the civil war hadn’t made it easy either. But the money was great! And with such a large family to feed he couldn’t refuse. She listened to his story with keen interest. _it must be nice to live a normal life_. Then he asked for her story.

“Wait… You’re the Dragonborn?!” He raised his brows. She nodded sitting beside him on the cart.  
“Yeaahhh, and I’m a flying horker!” The driver burst into laughter shaking his head.  
“I am the Dragonborn!” She scowled. She should have been used to people’s disbelief she was the one of legend.  
“Prove it.” The driver smirked. She normally would have got pissed off and given this man a fat lip, but she needed the company. Help distract her from her heavy heart.  
“Ok, how can I prove it to you?” She asked, giving him a smirk, yet still rather annoyed.  
“Go on. Shout for me.” He said waving ahead gesturing to do something. She readied herself as she let the words, their power build inside her working their way to her throat.  
“Shit, we’ve got company!” The driver said as he set his horse into a speeding gallop as a pack of wolves came running alongside the cart.  
“KAAN!” She yelled as a pale green light spewed from her mouth and exploded all around them. The wolves ceased their chase and walked away as though the carriage was no longer there, the horse slowed and continued on a calm trot.  
“What in Oblivion’s bloody depths was that?!” The driver looked at her in shock. “Are you half Bosmer or something?”  
“No, that was a Thu’um my friend.” She laughed.  
“Well… I guess I owe you an apology.” The driver smiled handing her juicy red apple. She nodded and accepted it with a smile.

After days of travelling with the carriage driver, she grew quite fond of him. He in some ways reminded her of her father, his playful jibes, their silly jokes and constant ramblings of the good old days. It was nice to step back in time back to before any of this began.  
When they finally reached Kynesgrove it was rather sad to say goodbye.  
“If you’re ever in the Pale, be sure to come visit. I live at fort Dunstad. Just south of Dawnstar.”  
“I will, thanks for the ride.” She smiled jumping down from the carriage.  
“I hope we meet again Dragonborn.” He waved goodbye as he tossed her another apple and headed off down the road.  
“Until next time!” She shouted with a grin, he waved goodbye and continued with his merchandise down the road.

The moment she headed into the town there was an echoing roar that filled the sky, she turned, looking up at the sky just as a Dragon flew overhead. Black as midnight with wings the so large they blocked out the sun. She recognised it immediately, this was the dragon that had destroyed Helgen! She could never forget that day.  
The dragon continued to fly over the town and upwards towards the mountain. She wasted no time and ran as quick as she could into the town filled with screaming men, women and children all running into the mines for safety. Sharis saw Delphine coming out of the inn, dressed in her leather armour and wielding a sword as she waved everyone to get to safety.

“Delphine!” Sharis called as she came running over.  
“Looks like you’re just in time, Dragonborn.” Delphine said as she came to meet her halfway. “It’s gone over to the old dragon mound just up the way.”  
“Well we better move then!” Sharis said as she began up the hill with Delphine.  
“No! You don’t want to go up there! A dragon…. It’s attacking!” Iddra grabbed Sharis’s arm and tried to pull her towards the mines.  
“Don’t worry about me! Just get yourself into the mines. Quickly!” Sharis turned and gave her a reassuring smile, Iddra looked at her completely thunderstruck by her responce, then it was like she suddenly realized.  
“It’s you… isn’t it? You’re the Dragonborn…?” She heard muttering inside the mine where people inside looked up to see this legendary figure. Stories had spread like wildfire through Skyrim about how the Dragonborn had returned but everyone always had the same incredulous look on their faces when they looked at her.  
“Yes, I am.” She said sternly. “Now quickly, inside!” Sharis pushed Iddra inside and turned to Delphine who was waiting for her.  
“C’mon! Hurry. We might be too late.”

___________________________________________________________

The sun had rose higher in the sky as was begining to look like it was going to be a beautiful day, strangely warm too! Perhaps it was the hot springs?  
Casavir let out a sigh of relief when he finally reached the small town of kynesgrove.  
“Please be here.” He said to himself, dismounting his horse and guiding them into the small settlement. The people of this small town looked on edge and rather frightened for some reason, _what’s going on?_

“Excuse me.” Casavir stopped a man who was heading to the mine.  
“Have you seen a young Breton mage around here. She’s about this tall, brown hair and bright hazel eyes.” Casavir asked, once again showing him the picture he had drawn of her. “She’s the Dragonborn.” Casavir added.  
“I know she was. She saved our lives from that damned dragon!” The man replied, giving Casavir a look over as he spoke.  
_What? A dragon? She fought a dragon alone?_ Casavir thought. He felt his heart skip when he knew she’d been here but he felt his heart thumped painfully when he honed in on the word _“was”._  
“Could you tell me where she is now?” Casavir asked politely.  
“Don’t know, she came about four nights ago. Killed that dragon and then left… It was like the Gods had sent her.” The man said and Casavir nodded. She was indeed sent from the gods.  
“Did you see which way she went?”

“EY! Paladin!” An angry voice called from down the road. Casavir turned to see a rather pissed off Bishop.  
“You bastard. You left me!”  
“You were taking too long to wake up.” Casavir turned back to the man who shrugged and headed back to work.  
“More like you just wanted to get to her before me.”  
“Oh shut up Bishop.” Casavir sighed. “We’re too late.”  
“What you mean?” Bishop asked when he saw the man leave and head back to work.  
“She was here.. They say a dragon attacked and she killed it. Then she just left. That was fours nights ago.”  
“Ha! That’s my girl!” Bishop laughed folding his arms, looking proud. Casavir felt himself bristle at his term of calling her _“My girl”._ He hid his animosity behind his stony expression and went to mount his horse.

“Hey where’s the dead dragon?!” Bishop asked a young boy who pointed to up the hill. Bishop began to run up the hill with a devilish grin.  
“Bishop we need to get back on the road! We don’t have time for this.” Casavir called.  
“Oh, c’mon Paladin. Ain’t you curious?” Bishop shrugged as he continued up the hill. Of course Casavir was curious, he’d never seen a dragon before, let alone a dead one. Curiosity got the better of him in the end and he went up the hill after bishop.

“Holy shit! That’s bigger than the last one!” Bishop laughed with amazement.  
“Uggghh… Why do you have to use such distasteful language? Can you not think of a better word to use?” Casavir mumbled.  
“What’s the matter? Am I getting under your skin?” Bishop barked a laugh, grinning menacingly at Casavir. Casavir ignored Bishop as his eyes set on the ginormous set of dragon bones that came into view.  
“By the Gods!” He breathed. It was just bones now, but they were huge. Never in his life or dreams had he seen such a large creature. Bishop said _“bigger”_ , _my lady took this down. Alone!_  
His respect for her jumped higher for her, this creature was a giant of the skies, and merely one of these beasts had destroyed an entire town.

“Well, she’s not here.” Bishop shrugged, and began to walk away.  
“Wait. I don’t understand. The man said she killed this beast four days ago…. But it looks like it’s been dead for years! Where is it’s flesh? It’s organs?” Casavir walked over to the giant bones, placing his hand on his enormous skull.  
“All that stuff burns to ash when they die, didn’t you know?”  
Casavir shook his head slowly his eyes fixed on the skull, it felt warm under his palm. _Four days? How can it be still warm?_  
He heard a ruffling behind him and turned to see Bishop turning a guard’s corpse over and rummaging it for supplies.  
“Bishop! Bloody hells! Have some respect!” Casavir snapped.  
“What? He’s not going to need them!” Bishop said. Casavir clicked the roof of his mouth.  
“That’s not the point, Bishop. That gold belongs to him. He may have had family, they will need it more than you.”  
“So, what? You going to track down his family and hand them the gold from his corpse?” Bishop frowned. “In case you forgot Paladin, we’re looking for the Dragonborn. Not dead guard’s kin. We don’t have time for that. You know this gold would never reach his family anyway.”  
Casavir let out a deep sigh. Bishop was right, he knew the other townsfolk or even his guard kin would pocket the money. There was no time to start hunting down family members of the fallen, no doubt the commander would already have that in order. With a heavy heart Casavir knew he would have to turn away this time.

“I’m heading for Riverwood.” Casavir sighed as he stomped away to leave Bishop to loot the bodies.  
“You know where you’re going Paladin?” Bishop asked putting some gold coins in his pocket and was following Casavir to the horses.  
“No, but that’s why you’re here, is it not?” Casavir replied as he proceeded to hand over Allie’s reins to the Ranger. Bishop stared at the reins in Casavir’s outstretched hand.  
“What you giving me them for?”  
“It’ll be quicker on horseback.” Casavir said as he slapped the reins in Bishop’s hand. Bishop stared at them for a moment as Casavir mounted his horse and waited patiently for Bishop to sort himself out.  
“You do remember how to ride a horse… right?” Casavir frowned.  
“Yes.”  
“Good, then let us be off. If we hurry we’ll be able to catch her at Riverwood.” Casavir said as he set off down the road leaving Bishop to catch up.

____________________________________________________

“There he is.” Delphine said as she pointed to a small wood elf walking down the hill out of Solitude towards them. “Hello Malborn.”  
“It would have been less suspicious if we did this back at the inn.” Malborn replied as he nervously looked around at his surroundings.  
“I’m sorry. But there’s someone she’s trying to avoid who may be at the Winking Skeever.” Delphine replied placing a hand gently on Sharis’s shoulder. Delphine had been so understanding about the whole ordeal, she was surprised at how understanding she had been.  
Malborn gave her look up and down and frowned. “Really?! This is who you’ve picked?”  
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” She snarled, she took a step towards him ready to give that grumpy Bosmer a taste of her knuckle sandwich.  
“Easy now. Malborn, this is Sharis, the Dragonborn.” Delphine stepped in, gripping her shoulder tightly to pull her back.

It had been a horrible few days for her. Travelling on the road for days back to Solitude, her nerves were a complete wreck. She preparing herself for one of the most stupid and insane plans she had ever heard. To infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy party, I must be bloody insane! On top of that, she was a nervous wreck knowing she was possibly yards away from her strapping, handsome Paladin. It had been a relief to share her worry to Delphine, at least she was being so understanding.

“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t expect the Dragonborn to be…”  
“Be what?” She snapped.  
“Emm… nevermind. Sorry it’s just. Well… This whole plan has got me on edge.” Malborn sighed. She nodded and allowed time to compose herself as she didn’t want be picking pointless fights.  
“Yeah, me too.” She sighed.  
“OK. So, back to business then?” He nodded. “I can smuggle some equipment into the embassy for you. For God’s sake, don’t plan on bringing anything else in with you, the Thalmor take security VERY seriously.”  
“Nice to know.” She scoffed with a shake of her head.  
She just wasn’t feeling up for this, but the sooner she got away from the great stone walls of Solitude the better. She was so tempted to go and see, just peep through the door to see if he was sat at a table, looking down into his tea with that same look on his face as if he was silently debating something to himself. God’s she missed his stiff, calm persona.  
She missed talking to him about random things, she would just talk about anything, that popped into her head and watched his reactions.

She smiled to herself when she remembered Bishop giving him the lusty Argonian maid book which he hid under another book skin. Casavir was horrified when he read the first paragraph and threw the book at Bishop who was choking with laughter.  
Casavir was so dignified and prudent in such matters. She found it rather sweet, he was so refreshing in a place where chivalry was pretty much non exsistant. She missed being able to look over her shoulder when she was nervous and see him close behind, giving her a reassuring smile. Like he knew what she was thinking. What she needed. _What I would give to have some of his strength right now._ She thought.  
She couldn’t go and check if was there. No. If she did see him sat there with that pathetically adorable expression, she would be so tempted to waltz straight in there and…  
“Are you even listening?” Malborn said distracting her train of thought.  
“Oh, sorry. Go on.” She shook herself to focus.

“You need to give me what you will NEED, what you can’t live without. Then the rest is upto you.” Malborn repeated for her. She nodded and proceeded to stuff what little supplies she would need into his brown sack. “OK, I’ll get this inside the embassy for you. I’ve got to go before someone sees me. I’ll find you at the party, don’t worry.” He finally pulled a smile and walked back up towards.  
“I hope this works.” She turned to Delphine who replied with a nod. “Don’t worry, it will.”

Sharis’s palms were sweaty and her she found it hard to swallow as worry filled her. She had cut her hair and had dyed it with coal so she would be less recognisable. Hopefully no one would actually notice her.  
She walked up to the soldiers waiting at the foot of the stairs, they watched her, giving her a once over before painting a snooty smile on their faces. _Ugh,_ she cringed.  
“Welcome to the Thalmor embassy. Your invitation please?”  
She nodded and held the invitation up, snapping her shaky hand down to her side as soon as the guard took it from her.  
“Thank you. Go right in.”

 _Ok, now what?_ She thought to herself as she walked into the great hall. _God’s what I would do to have some of Casavir’s calm right now._ She thought. She gulped hard and smiled as a tall Altmer woman came calmly and gracefully over.  
_Here goes nothing!_  
  
______________________________________________

 _Casavir was asleep, deep in his dreams._  
Flowers in hand and practically skipping up the stone steps, he was so happy. This was it, he didn’t care what his friends told him – liars, the lot of them.  
He was going to marry this woman, his love – the only good thing left in his life.  
He had the ring, gold with a white diamond. It cost almost all his savings but it was worth it for her.  
He stepped through the doors and walked with a proud bounce in his step. The entire room fell silent – bar the musicians in the background as he strode past the crowd of drunks and to her chambers.  
“Casavir, lad. I wouldn’t go up there.” One man said as he headed upstairs. Casavir ignored him, he would not listen to them anymore.  
Life had been cruel to young Casavir. He would not allow corruption to take away the one shred of happiness this woman gave to him.  
“Casavir! – ? Sh… shouldn’t you be on guard duty?” A maid dropped her fresh washed linen she was carrying in shock of seeing him, traces of panic on her face.  
“I got the day off, I thought I would surprise her.” He chortled with a huge smile.  
“No! Don’t go in-”  
He turned the handle and walked in with a huge smile on his face. “Ophala are y-”  
Ice water filled his veins as he took in the sight of his lady in bed… in bed with another man…  
“Casavir! What are you… Oh Gods…” Ophala gasped as the two scrambled away from one another.  
This was a trick…. This had to be. Only he knew it wasn’t. This man dare defile her!  
“You bastard, get away from her!” He bellowed. Taking a step forward, he froze in mid step when he caught sight of the man.  
… no… no…  
The next thing he knew, he was running. Running frantically through the halls, blood soaking his body and people’s eyes looked at him, horrified. His heart pounded furiously in his chest as it was torn away from anything but betrayal. The screams echoed through the halls as he ran away. His feet couldn’t get him away fast enough.  
“God’s man! What have you done!?” One onlooker said, trying to grab him.  
“Casavir?! What’s happened?” His friend asked when he saw Casavir crash through the doors and onto the streets.  
The screams grew louder, a piercing shrill in his ears. He kept running, as fast as his disorientated self to take him, people gasped and shocked as they saw him, his surrounding began to distort, the shadows around him began to shift and run of colour.  
Bursting through the doors of the temple, he fell to his knees. The only place he felt safe, ever since a boy, his only sanctuary. He crawled on his hands and knees and curled up under the statute of Stendarr. His whole body shook as gulping aired cries wracked through him.  
“Forgive me… please… forgive me?” The distant cries and screams of his pursuers becoming demonic and turned to ear piercing shrieks…  
“Casavir….?” He recognised that voice, that angelic voice. He turned to meet the owner of the voice to see Sharis stood at the foot of the alters looking at him with horror and disbelief. “How could you….?” Her whisper stung his ears.  
“My lady?…! No, please. I…. I….” He blubbered reaching out for her but she stepped back. Her beautiful face turned distorted, with one blink her eyes turned back and her mouth opened wider than nature would have allowed.  
“HOW COULD YOU!!” Her screech pierced his ears painfully and he felt blood leak from them, he fell to the floor and looked up as those words came again…

Casavir gasped loudly as he sat up straight as a board in his bed. He ran a shaky hand through his sweat dampened hair he threw the sheets off and sat himself on the edge of the bed. Holding his face in his hands as he looked down at his feet. The longer he was away from her, the more his dreams began to tear at Casavir’s mental state. Looking at her every night as her eyes turned from their beautiful forest green and gold into hollow blackness, and the shrilling scream every night was driving him insane. He prayed she would show her face soon. Save him from this madness with the light that called him to this land.

They had finally arrived in Riverwood. Having Bishop with him was uncomfortable and disturbing but it meant they got to Riverwood rather quickly and apparently before Delphine or Sharis. Hopefully they would show their faces soon…. God’s willing.

“Orgnar. I’m back from my travels.” Casavir heard a voice from outside the door in the inn.  
“Welcome back, Delphine. How goes you?”  
_DELPHINE!_ Casavir snapped his head up instantly when he heard the name. He jumped to his feet and made himself presentable before leaving the room and walking over to the counter where Orgnar was speaking to a blonde woman wearing leather armour.

“Oh, you’re up early again.” Orgnar said as he saw Casavir come walking over.  
“Did I hear correctly? Has Delphine arrived?” Casavir asked as he bounded over to the counter perhaps a little too keenly. The blonde woman sat at the bar half turned her face as she examined Casavir.  
“Yeah, Delphine. This is Casavir. He came in with Bishop. He’s looking for the Dragonborn. Say’s he was travelling with her but they parted ways.” Orgnar spoke to the the blonde lady sat on the stool as she remained silent. She slowly rose to her feet and turned to fully face Casavir.  
“Good morning my lady. Allow me to introduce myself I’m-”

“So you’re Casavir. She had allot to say about you.” She interrupted him with a stony expression that almost matched his own.  
“She spoke of me?” Casavir repeated her, helping it register in his mind. A part of him was elated he had been the subject of at least one of her topics but another part of him shuddered at the thought of what she may have been saying.  
“Yeah, she did. If you came here looking for her then you’re out of luck. She’s heading to Riften.” She said, folding her arms still wearing the same hard face.  
“Riften?” He felt his heart sink like a stone in his chest when he heard he had ounce again missed her. “May I ask what she is doing there?”  
“She’s on a mission, I can’t tell anymore than that. She’ll be coming back here when she is finished so you’re free to wait.” He felt like he was on a little boat in the middle of a storm. Waves of emotion swaying up and down, over and over. They finally calmed for a moment. She would be coming here after all, he hadn’t missed his chance.  
“Thank you. I shall do that then.” He nodded. Delphine gave him another once over before she headed for her room.  
It was the best news Casavir had been given in weeks. Hope was shining brightly in the Paladin’s spirit. He headed back to his room with a weight somewhat lifted off him. He was ahead of her, she would be heading this way and when he sees her coming into town he would hopefully be able to right this wrong.


	8. Old friends

“Hey take it easy. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” She soothed as she stepped into the cell and knelt down before him.  
“W-what? Who? What do you want from me?” He looked up at her, flinching his face away as she reached out to touch his bloodied and bruised face. Wounds all over his body, some old and some new, some infected, weeping puss as they were trying to heal.  
“No time to explain, let’s get cleaned up, then we’re getting out of here.” She shushed him and cut him free.  
_Them bastards! How could they do this? How did they sleep at night?_ She let his weak frame fall into her as she cut him free from his bindings. She held him steady as he let out deep labored breaths. “Why are you here? Why were they torturing you?” She asked as she propped him up against the wall and pulled out a clean rag and healing potion from her belt pouch.  
“They’re after some old guy, I’ve seen him around Riften. I don’t know where he lives, but he matches the description of this Esbern guy. They were so eager to find him.” He replied wincing as she cleaned out the old wounds and gave him the health potion to drink. She took a deep breath and used her restoration skills to help seal the wounds on him.  
“Esbern? Who’s that?” She asked as she went to grab a bottle of wine off the table and hand it to him, he chugged it down and gasped in loud relief.  
“I don’t know, Something to do with the dragons, I gathered that much from listening to them talk when they thought I was out.” He replied, watching her again in skeptical amazement. The concentration written on her face as she watched the open wounds on his chest where they attempted to flay him was turning into a pink scar. Suddenly he grabbed her hands and leant into her, his eyes taking in all her features.  
“Hey! What are y-” She began.  
“You’re real right? This isn’t some trick to get me to talk?” He asked.

“Really? You’ve just watched me kill those two bastards and your questioning me? I am NOT one of them.” She said sternly, he pulled himself back slowly and looked at her with bewilderment and relief.  
“I was sent here to-” She began but her words halted as they heard the unsheathing of blades somewhere in the room.

“Listen up spy. You’re trapped in here and there is no escape. We have your accomplice. Surrender immediately or you both die.” She peered up from her hiding spot in the cell to see Malborn being held at knifepoint.  
_No!_ She gasped and hid again, she shared glances with the Prisoner before she pulled her hood over her face and her scarf over her mouth. She couldn’t allow him to be harmed because of her. She walked calmly out of her hiding place, looking up at the same two soldiers that had allowed her into the party.

“Now, put down your weapons and -” The guard holding Malborn began before a dagger whizzed past her and struck him between the eyes.  
_What the?!_ She looked round to see the prisoner standing beside her. Malborn wasted no time and leapt from the balcony to freedom as the other guard tried to fire lightning at the three. She had them covered as she held up a ward to block the spell and fired a column of flames at the outnumbered guard. As the guard writhed around in flames and fell off the balcony, the prisoner ran over and slit his throat before his wailing cries attracted more unwanted company.

“Come on. This way, I’ve seen the guards use it to get rid of dead bodies. It has to lead somewhere.” He said as he staggered over to a trapdoor hidden away. “Damn it! It’s locked!”  
“Here, try this.” Malborn suggested running over with a key he looted from a guard. The key worked and they all jumped down through the trapdoor to make their escape.

Delphine was waiting down the road with a disguised merchants cart.  
“You made it. Good. Did you….? Who’s this?” Delphine asked, staring at the man who climbed in the cart with her.  
“This is….” She paused. In all the short time she had known him she hadn’t thought to ask for his name.  
“Etienne Rarnis.” He replied throwing a spare cloak over his shivering body.  
“The Thalmor are going to be looking for me my entire life now.” Malborn complained. Hiding away at the bottom of the cart with a cloak wrapped around him, hiding his face.  
“Don’t worry Malborn, I’ll put some things together, the Thalmor won’t find you. You have my word dear friend.” Delphine assured him. “Sharis, did you find anything as of use?”  
“Here it’s all I could find.”  
“I hope it was worth it.” Malborn muttered.  
“Etienne here has some information that may be useful.” She said handing Delphine all the paper dossiers she found in the ambassador’s office.

Etienne told them everything, his capture, his long weeks of brutal torture for the information on an old man. Delphine’s eagerness peaked when he mentioned he mentioned the name Esbern.  
“Esbern?! He’s alive?! I thought the Thalmor got him years ago.”  
“You know who this Esbern is?” Sharis asked, sitting beside Etienne who was wolfing down a bread roll and cold stew.  
“Esbern was one of the Blades archivists, back before the Thalmor smashed us during the great war.” Delphine explain. “That crazy old man, figures the Thalmor would be on his trail though if they were trying to figure out what’s going on with the dragons.”  
“But, what would they want with this Esbern?”  
“You mean besides from wanting to kill every blade they can lay their hands on? He knew everything of the ancient dragon law and the blades. It was an obsession really. Nobody paid much attention to it back them. I guess he wasn’t as crazy as we all thought.”  
“SO… the Thalmor must think that the Blades know about the dragons?”  
“Hah! How ironic.” Etienne barked a laugh with his mouth full of food. Sharis frowned and handed him a rag to wipe his mouth.  
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She chided him, he nodded and continued quietly eating his food. _Poor guy was skin and bone, They must have starved him as part of his torture._

“We’ve got to find Esbern before they do. He’ll know how to stop the dragons if anybody does.” Delphine said rummaging through the files of what they had on Esbern.  
“Well, I guess I’m off to Riften.” Sharis sighed.  
“When you get to there, speak to Brynjolf. He’s well connected.”  
“I’m going with you, I know Brynjolf, he’ll be more willing to talk if he knows you helped me escape. ”  
“Sure. Any help you can offer is greatly accepted. Thank you. ” She said, waning a smile.  
“It’s the least I can do. You didn’t have to help me, but you did.” Etienne replied with a thankful look in his eyes.

This whole Dragonborn business was getting more and more complicated. The more she followed this path the more and more it became a burden to her, she never asked for this. Why her? Of all the people in the damn world, why her?

Finally after weeks on travelling in a jerky old cart to the cesspool of Skyrim they finally arrived at Riften. She wasn’t too keen on this town, who could blame her? This place was home to the thieves guild and cut throats. Etienne guided the way through the town market filled with grumpy, dour people who eyed her as she went by.  
The ratways were disgusting. Dirty, cold and smelt of damp and whatever the hell else. She followed Etienne who lead her through the endless maze of sewers until they finally reached the Sunken Flagon. There, a man with copper red hair sat at a small table counting up a bag of gold. He jumped up out of his seat looking directly at the two as they drew closer.

“Etienne?! Is that you? Ha! Thank the God’s.” The man smiled as he crossed the distance between them.  
“Brynjolf, I thought I’d never see you again.” Etienne chuckled and went to meet him halfway. The red haired man smiled and wrapped his arms around Etienne.  
She blushed bright red and stood quietly, her eyes wandering around the room as the two men in front of her shared a long steamy kiss.  
_Well, that was unexpected……_ she thought. This explained so much! No wonder he hadn’t tried his luck with her like every other man had, well except for Casavir.  
Her heart swelled painfully when his beautiful steel blue eyes and strong stern features came to memory.  
_Nope, nope. Go away,_ she pushed them aside again.

“Where have you been?” Brynjolf asked, gripping Etienne’s shoulders.  
“Brynjolf, I’d like you to meet Sharis. She saved me from the Thalmor Embassy.”  
“The Thalmor Em-. Never mind, come sit down, both of you. Tell me everything that’s happened.” Brynjolf walked them to the table and ordered food and drink for them both.

Etienne told his story again and Sharis quietly sat sipping on spoonfuls of soup. They were both members of the thieves guild, she wasn’t too impressed with their profession but once again it made sense why they would find Brynjolf down here. She had to admit, their kindness was winning her over, they weren’t bad people, they just had a bad job.  
“I can’t thank you enough for bringing him home, lass. We thought him dead when he vanished from his last job.” Brynjolf took her hands and gripped them gently as he placed a kiss on them.  
_This is home?!_ She forced a smile, hiding her disapproval of their living environment.  
“Well, I couldn’t just leave him there.”  
“If there is anything you need, just say the word.” Brynjolf said.  
“Well, actually. I was told you could help me.” She began. “I’m looking for this old guy hiding out in Riften….”

_________________________________

She knocked on the solid wooden door and waited, she could hear someone shuffling around on the other side. After a few minutes, she leant in to knock again to see a small square of the door move to reveal an old man staring back at her.  
“Oh! Err…” She began.  
“What is it? Who are you?” He snapped coldly.  
“Hello, we’ve never met before but I’m a friend of Delphine. She’s sent me to come get you.” She said politely.  
“Delphine? Who’s that?… No, I don’t know a Delphine.” He said as he tried to close the small window but she quickly placed her hand on it and used her frost to jam it open.  
“Look, I know your name is Esbern. Sorry but I don’t have time or the patience for anymore formalities. I’ve just had to fight my way through the damn Thalmor to get here, they know you’re here! I was sent by Delphine to bring you to her.” He paused and looked at her considering what she was saying. After some more persuasion he finally let her inside and they talked for a while.

“We need to leave. Before anymore Thalmor come this way. I’ve already had to face them in the ratways..” She said as she heard voices echoing outside the door. Esbern nodded and collected his things as they left the Ratways together. Fighting through Thalmor soldiers that had come investigating what was taking so long.

Finally they made it out of the Ratways and caught a cart leaving for the Reach. She paid to be taken as far as Whiterun. She was so glad to be out of Riften, such a depressing town.

Her journey with Esbern was quite pleasant, Delphine was right, he was as nutty as a fruit cake… it was a good job she liked fruitcake! He was a grumpy and quick tempered old man, he reminded her of the Grandfather she would of had if he didn’t die in the war.  
Esbern began softened and became more open to her after their second day on the road. He was very interested in Sharis, especially since she claimed to be Dragonborn.  
They sat and talked, he was happy to share his life stories, he had so many fascinating stories to tell. But one story made her blood run cold was when he told her about the prophecy, the world eater, Alduin…

She remembered hearing that name back in Kynesgrove, she could have sworn that she heard the resurrected dragon mention that name, even if in their tongue that name stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Sharis, wake up dear. We’re here.” Esbern shook her shoulder gently to wake her. Not like he needed to – She hadn’t been able to sleep properly on these rickety cart rides and was in need of a real bed. Due to the lack of sleep her mind wandered freely and gave her time to reflect.

She found it hard to smile anymore, she felt lost without her companions. The Ranger, her Paladin… her Paladin… _Casavir_ … she thought as she remembered him.  
The bashful grin he gave her when she complimented him and the thundering laugh she had heard only once had burnt into her memory. His laugh was amazing it made every part of her being tingle the moment she had heard it.  
She looked at her small hands and remembered how his hands – much larger than hers, held hers to gently and firmly when she tripped over her feet in the ballroom and he quickly pulled her back to him.  
She then realized she had never actually held his hands in hers… he was always wearing those gauntlets. Even when he had been on recovery in Solitude she didn’t feel the need to touch his hands. Suddenly she longed to do so.  
_Why? Why him?_ She thought. _Why a Paladin?_

“Watch your step Esbern.” She yawned, jumping out of the cart before him and holding her hand out to aid the old man.  
“It feels good to be out again.” Esbern smiled as he sniffed the fresh air. It had been such a long time since he had left that room in Riften.  
She nodded and both continued the short distance up the hill to Riverwood.  
She was thankful Esbern was slow in his old age. She dreaded facing Bishop again – if he was even there!  
As they got closer to the village, they could hear screams and a sound of battle coming from the town.  
_What’s happening?_ She thought running ahead to see if she could offer her assistance. There was an ear splitting roar that echoed through the sound waves, then she saw a familiar sight of great wings and long scaled body rose from the village and begin to circle.

“By the Gods!” Esbern gasped as he saw the dragon.  
“Take cover.” She said as she ran full speed to the village. The guard’s had been smart enough to lure it away from the town, rather strange for guards to have a plan in place. Normally they would just charge in blindly and Start swinging their weight around, mostly always ending in their death.

Her hands flickered with flames as she saw the ice shards poking out of everything like everything was a pin cushion. She gasped and haltered when she saw a warrior on the ground. She recognised the unique armour and the raven black hair, she felt a wave of emotions fill her as she remembered him. Paladin… my Paladin!  
“Casavir.”  
The beast was ready to breath its breath at him, _Oh no you don’t! Leave my Paladin alone!_ She snarled as she darted forward.

“WULD NAH KEST!”

__________________________________

Casavir stayed in his room at the sleeping giant – on the house, he spent most his time meditating and talking with Delphine, she seemed rather curious as to why a Paladin was in Skyrim.  
He was unsure whether to ask her what his lady had told her of himself. More days went by and Casavir was growing inpatient. He was desperate to see her again. He couldn’t deny the fact that he missed her. Her smile, her laugh, her eyes… her walk. He loved the way she walked, its was graceful, confident and feminine. The way her hips swayed from side to side as she walked. He blushed a little as he brushed away his illicit thoughts.

At night he would wander the village along with the guards on patrol, hoping to keep himself awake as much as possible. He began to dread sleep. Seeing her beautiful radiance distort into something dark and twisted made him feel sick, lack of sleep was truly affecting him. He would look at himself in the mirror and could see what it was doing to him, dark circles under his eyes and a frown held on his face as if to hold his eyelid open. He started to look at himself and see the broken beaten man he ounce had been. He felt so lost… He struggled to hold his calm stature and would find himself snapping at people, ignoring them when they spoke to him. He found it hard to focus on things as he fought away the sleep that his body desperately called for.

Bishop would vanish during the days and return in the evening to sit in his little dark corner of the Tavern. Casavir forever felt like he was being watched when he was there. Probably because he always was being watched.  
He couldn’t stand being in the Ranger’s presence for too long, that was also the reason Casavir would join the guards on patrol at night.

“Casavir.” Delphine came over to the small table Casavir had seated himself at.  
“What?” He snapped, fighting with his sleepy eyes again. Delphine paused, taken back by another snappy response from the Paladin.  
“Forgive me.” He sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.  
“Maybe you should go get some rest?” Delphine said sitting down beside him. “You don’t look so good.”  
“I’ll be fine. Is there any news on her whereabouts?” He asked.  
“No. Nothing… Look, you know she won’t be pleased if she sees you like this.” Delphine insisted. Casavir didn’t respond, he knew she was right, he remembered how she had nursed him in Solitude, almost on the borderline of mothering him. Her smile came to him again, the moment he almost collapsed and she held him up with her body. her hands pressed into his chest. He turned his face as he blinked away the sing of tears that threatened to expose themselves. He needed rest but he feared it. Yes, FEAR filled him with the thought of seeing her in his dreams.

“Delphine… May I ask you something?” He began to break, giving in to the curiosity. She looked at him with concern and nodded, he had to know, perhaps it would ease his troubled mind or make the nightmares worse – either way, he had to know.  
“When… when you said she spoke of me… may I ask what she told you?” He kept his eyes fixed down at the mug of tea he had been staring into for the past hour. He hated to give in to his curiosity but he yearned, craved for this knowledge. Delphine didn’t respond for a while, possibly considering on whether to answer at all. Then she began to speak.  
“She -”

“Dragon! There’s a dragon!” A boy cried out as he bust into the inn.  
“A dragon? here?” Orgnar gasped. The boy nodded, shaking like a leaf. Casavir sprang to his feet. He couldn’t believe it, a real life dragon?! _Oh what an opportunity!_ He hadn’t seen action in days and he needed to relieve some of this tension. He grabbed his sword and ordered everyone to get in the basement before leaving the inn.  
The whole town had turned from a quaint peaceful place into what looked like the middle of a battlefield. Everybody was running for cover inside their homes as a giant winged creature swooped down from above.

“By the divines!” He gasped. it was huge, beautiful. It swooped down and landed on the merchants rooftop staring down at them as it breathed shards of ice at the guards below. Poor men didn’t stand a chance.  
Casavir grabbed a the guard closest to him and threw him behind the stone wall as he followed straight after.  
When the beast took flight again he came out from behind the stone wall and saw the shards of crystal ice embedded in it.

“We need to draw it away from the village.” Casavir said to the guard next to him and the guard that came running over to the Paladin looking rather scared.  
They worked together, Casavir taking command as they attempted to grasp the attention of the dragon, after being bombarded with arrows and constant taunts. The dragon began to turn it’s attention to the group of fighters and away from the town.

“Having fun?” Bishop asked as he came running over with his bow.  
“About time Ranger! Where have you been?!” Casavir called as he threw down the bow he’d been using. Bishop ignored him and fired three arrows at once into the dragon’s neck. He honestly didn’t care about the Rangers antics but he felt rather infuriated he hadn’t shown up sooner.

“Archers! Shoot it in the sky and we’ll attack it on the ground.” He ordered around. His Paladin aura giving the guards strength and courage they needed to face such a beast. Finally working together, they lured it away from the town and it came down to land with an earth shaking boom in front of them. Everyone took cover behind whatever they could see when it breathed its shards of ice as big as greatswords, ripping branches from the nearby trees and earth on the ground.

The guards charged forward, slashing their blades into the beast, it’s scales were hard and strong, difficult to penetrate but Casavir’s sword was refined to perfection, all those hours on the grindstone trying to keep himself distracted has made his blade so sharp it sliced through the scaled and hard boned armour, as he swung his blade into it’s nose. The dragon let out another ear splitting roar and spun quickly swinging his tail round and whipping the platoon of men to fall in jumbled mess.

Casavir pulled himself up off the floor quickly, looking into the eyes of such a ferocious and deadly opponent. He suddenly realised what a great beast it truly was as it towered over him.  
“Brit grah. I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!” _It speaks?!_ Casavir looked at it bewildered for a moment before jumping out of the way of it snapping jaws. Casavir swung his sword up slicing along its face and just shy of it’s glassy blue eye. He dodged its attacks over and over. He knew what one bite from those massive jaws filled it jagged razor sharp teeth could do to him, he saw it happened to one poor guard earlier.

“Dir krin kendov!” The dragon roared as Casavir swung his sword again.  
Casavir saw the blue smoke building in his mouth, the sound of ice shards like broken glass as the dragon readied himself for another blaze of icy spears. Casavir wouldn’t make it to the tree in time, he was open and vulnerable.  
_Forgive me, my lady._ He thought as he held his arm up in some useless attempt to shield himself.

He felt a sudden push, no pain, his feet lifted from the ground and everything around turned into a blur of colour. He landed on his back and tumbled around again, just dazed with his head throbbing.  
He was looking at the sky now, still death did not come to him, he could feel no pain, but then something moved on his chest. He looked down at the cinnamon brown hair kissed with golden strands all tied back into a single messy braid. They lifted their face up and turned. Emerald green eyes that sparkled with glittering gold flashed past without meeting his eyes. He felt like his heart stopped and enlarged with build up of blood, his breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at her.

 _Am I dead?_ He thought. _Is it really her?_ The feeling he had a that moment was surreal, almost dream like. He was grounded down by his feelings as his body refused to move.

“DOVAHKIIN!!” The dragon roared readying another blast.  
“Everybody take cover!” She shouted as she jumped to her feet and fired an intense column of fire which made its way straight to the dragon and engulfed the ice creature. The dragon reared back and let out an agonizing cry.  
_Her voice…_ Sweet Mara he had almost forgotten how her voice truly sounded.  
Casavir watched as she darted forward blasting tomes of fire at it and shouted again. Completely thunderstruck by her sudden appearance, she was amazing, such power, such strength.  
The fresh tenacious energy she brought to the fight left the dragon exposed and confused. It snapped forward as she jumped aside but her robed tunic trailed behind and snagged on the dragon’s teeth. She was jerked up in the air and thrashed around before it ripped and she went crashing into the leafy green of a tree.

“MY LADY!” Casavir ran over just in time to catch her in his arms. Blood streamed from her nose and head as looked over at the dragon that took off. She wriggled in his arms until she was back on the ground.  
“Get back here!” She shouted at the beast as it flew away. She fired blast after blast of fire at it and Bishop fired his arrows at it attacked from above.  
“FUS RO DAH!” She released her thu’um, her eyes ablaze with battle rage as she charged toward it when it crash landed to the ground, turning up the earth and trees that were in the way.

It turned suddenly turned to defended itself with it ice breath, Casavir abruptly snatched her away behind a nearby tree as crystal spears skewered the soil and tree around them.  
“Damn it, I’m spent.” She hissed, realizing he used up all her magicka. “I’ve got a plan.” She said, wiping the trickle of blood that ran down her face.  
“Cas, I’ll get on its back. It’ll try and throw me off and when it does, I want you to go for its throat. Got it?” She said with haste.  
“My lady let me heal you. You’re head…”  
“More blood will be shed if we don’t act now Cas.” He stared down at her as she turned her head slightly to expose her profile but avoided looking at him. He reluctantly nodded.  
“Ready?” She asked.  
“Yes my lady.” He replied. Oh how she missed hearing his voice. She gave him a quick nod but avoided her eyes meeting his again.

Without hesitation she ran out of her hiding space and grabbed a sword from the ground. “Fus, RO DAH!” She shouted to make the dragon falter, she jumped on his head and held on tight as it thrashed around to throw her off – as expected.  
“Now Cas!” She shouted. He charged forward and with a thundering roar and a good hard swing of his sword, his blade sliced with ease and cut open the dragon’s neck.  
It landed with a thud and she came rolling off on the ground littered with ice and blood.

“My lady!” Casavir dropped his sword and ran to her. He helped sit her up and held tightly to her shoulders. She was a beautiful as the day she left.

Her hair was shorter and tied into a long braid with stray locks of hair fallen around which framed her beautiful face. She looked weary, as though she had been battling with sleep also. Had she been struggling with sleep too?  
“Are you alright, my lady?” He asked. She nodded.  
“I’m fine.” She replied picking herself up off the ground, she couldn’t bring herself look at him… why?  
His heart sank when her eyes did not meet his, his soul longed to look into those beautiful eyes, begged for their comfort. _Please look at me my lady_ , he silently pleaded.  
“You fought well.” She complimented him, her voice sounded flat as if she was uncomfortable by his presence. This only made his heart ache, throb agonisingly as if another blunt knife had been driven slowly into his chest.  
“Thank you, my lady.” He said.

“That’s it…. we killed it!” A guard said amazed they survived. “It’s over.” Another cheered followed by an roar of victory from the others.  
Casavir watched as she took a few steps towards the massive beast as its blood painted the ground. His eyes snapped to the dragon’s corpse at it began to glow, its scales peeled away and his flesh turned white-hot and flaked away.

“Whats happening?” The guards voices came from behind them, the cheers faded as a low thundering boom echoed the air around them.

Casavir was ready to run to protect her, but he found himself grounded to the spot, his jaw almost hit the floor as he watched swirling ribbons of light and smoke flew forward and wrapped around her. Casavir watched, breathlessly and wide eyed, witnessing the powers of a dragonborn.  
The Dragon’s soul filled her with new energy, images of Skyrim from above filled her sight and memories, thoughts, power filled her. it was an intense moment, filled with new strength, knowledge and will she felt like she would burst.  
Casavir felt weak at the knees as she finally turned to look at him, he almost cried out when he noticed her eyes shining a bright white, no longer a sparkling vibrant hazel. Slowly they returned to normal to show she was looking at him, only at him. Her whole aura seemed to change, she seemed stronger, more powerful… Beautiful – so beautiful.  
_My lady…._


	9. Together again

She left the guards to deal with their fallen brethren and headed back into the village where Esbern was walking towards her. His mouth open and closing without with only jumbled stutterings coming out.  
“You… t-the dragon… you, you…. !” He stuttered still flabbergasted. She nodded slowly with a soft smile. She had grown accustomed to such a reaction, she had seen it so much the she began to feel like she was constantly having deja vu.  
“I told you.” She replied.  
“Then there is still hope. You really are dragonborn!” He chuckled shaking his head gazing at her with utter amazement. “Quickly now, take me to Delphine.”  
She escorted him back to the inn with Casavir close on her heels, she paid no attention to the Paladin and gave the Ranger the same treatment when he came sauntering over with his over confident grin. Though she was itching with curiosity as to why they both were here.

She opened the door and walked behind Esbern, Delphine had been staying inside to protect everyone who had sought safety in her Basement. The moment she saw the old man she smiled from ear to ear, a smile she thought wasn’t possible for Delphine to acheive, it was obvious to all that there was a close connection between these two old friends.  
“Esbern! It’s you, it’s really you.” Delphine greeted him, her eyes shone with joy as she looked at him, like seeing her father after so many years.  
“Delphine! My dear girl.” He chuckled as he pulled her in for a hug. “I can’t believe it! That was a…a….Bahh! Delphine, It’s been a long time.”  
“Indeed, it’s been too long.” She nodded.

Sharis smiled to herself, a feeling of peace filled her, she quickly staggered back to steady herself when a great black mess of fur leapt up at her and licked her face in a frenzy.  
“Karnwyr!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her face into his thick fur. Karnwyr growled playfully and fought with her to get to her face again. She laughed heartily as his weight became too much and she stumbled back onto the floor, still romping with Karnwyr.  
She enjoyed goofing around with Karnwyr, and he too enjoyed playtime with the Dragonborn. Many got rather frightened of the wolves play habits but they just didn’t understand him. He was a companion – not a pet.  
“I missed you. Did you miss me?” She smiled as she finally got a timeout from their rampant tackling. Karnwyr barked and jumped on her again, proceeding to use his weight to hold her down and his tongue licked in her ear, she cringed and laughed at the awkward tickling sensation.

From the corner of her eye, through the black fur she saw a glint of steel armour. Casavir, her stomach whirled with a wave of fluttering butterflies as she caught another glimpse of those beautiful blue eyes. He looked unsure as wether to help her or allow the wolf to harass her.  
“Heya Princess.” Bishop’s voice came to her as Karnwyr suddenly disappeared from her and she was pulled up against Bishop’s form. She looked round and met his bronze predatory gaze. “Did you miss me?”  
“Bishop.” Casavir’s thick rumbling voice distracted her.

“Lucky you guys showed up when you did. Otherwise we would have suffered Helgen’s fate.” Delphine said, walking over to Sharis. Sharis clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and broke free from Bishop’s grasp. Avoiding to even entertain either of them.  
“Nah, you guys had it.” Sharis shrugged. “Anyway it wasn’t me who dealt the final blow.” She replied, welcoming an embrace from Delphine.  
“The village would have been destroyed if it wasn’t for all of you.” Esbern added, his eyes wandered curiously to the Paladin.  
“Come, let’s get you both settled in. You both look like you’re in need of some home comforts. And a bath.” Delphine said with a grin as she gestured to the Dragonborn who was pitted with debris from her previous battle.

“That would be great!” Sharis smiled sheepishly, running her fingers through her blood dampened locks and began to pick out bits of twigs, leaves and whatever else decided to get tangled in there during the fight.  
“Orgnar will collect some water for your bath.” Delphine smiled broadly as Orgnar rolled his eyes and grabbed a water pail.  
“May I to assist you my lady?” Casavir said as he hurried to grab a pale.  
“Assist me?” She questioned, raising a brow.  
“Oh, No… I meant… I mean to collect the water.” He stuttered with a deep crimson rising all over his face.  
“I suppose you should ask Orgnar.” She replied flatly, walking to the room where Orgnar was guiding her.

Casavir’s heart sank when she began to walk away, once again avoiding eye contact with him. His soul craved for that moment again. The moment branded into his memory, the moment she HAD looked at him.  
That moment she stood in front of the giant beast, a light glowing emanating around her, the dragon’s spirit.  
Her eyes were just as vibrant as she looked at him. They looked just how he remembered only they looked different, brighter and salient, looking straight into his. As though everything around them vanished and it was just the two of them. Her gaze was so intense it felt like she could see his soul, piercing through the Paladin, the armour and straight to his core.

An emotion held in them he could not read but whatever those eyes held it made him weak, exposed. His wounded heart had swollen so much it felt like it would burst. In that moment he felt vulnerable and it frightened him, yet he could not look away.  
The emotions, the feelings he had locked away for so long, the walls he built around him were crumbling away. He couldn’t understand the hold this woman had on him, but whatever it was, it made him feeling trapped yet at the same time he had never felt so alive.

_____________________________

She looked into the tub filled with hot water. She hadn’t had a hot bath with soaps and home comforts in weeks. She’d been resorting to washing in streams which wasn’t the safest choice – for obvious reasons.  
She began to strip and dressed in a long baggy tunic that draped to her knees as she waited for the water to cool. The smell of Lavender filled the room from the salts she poured into the bath.

“Oh…!” A deep voice came from behind her making her spin around quickly. It was Casavir, stood halfway into the room with the last pale of water looking away. Frozen in mid-step.  
“My apologies. I did not realize you wer-” He said as he began to walk out.  
“That’s alright.” She shrugged. “Once again – a second earlier and we would have been faced with another awkward situation.” She replied softly yet Casavir detected the frostiness in her voice.  
“Forgive me, I should have knocked.”  
“No harm done.” She leant against the dresser. Still holding her cold front but it took all her effort.

There he was, the one person she had missed so badly it kept her awake at night. He bowed his head and placed the pail of steaming water by the bath before turning to leave.  
“Casavir, wait.”  
“Yes?” He spoke almost too eagerly, stopping at the door.  
“Shut the door.” She replied calmly. “I wish to speak with you.”  
He nodded and shut the door before turning to face her, his eyes looking down at the floor, waiting for her next command.

His tall strong frame stood before her. It was good to see him again, she couldn’t deny the way her body sang with joy at seeing him after so long, she wanted to run over and wrap her arms around him, but she knew that would probably make him uncomfortable. She was odd about him now he looked different. She remembered him being taller somehow, holding a reserved and stoic form, but now he looked troubled, his blue eyes were shadowed by sunken rings around them, his hair didn’t seem to have it’s usual shine and his palette was not the shade she remembered.

“You look terrible.” She said bluntly. “Are you feeling sick?”  
“No, I’m alright my lady.” He replied quietly. His eyes still downcast.  
“Really?” She pressed for more when she heard the hesitation in his voice.  
“… Just been having trouble sleeping these past few night is all.”

 _The nightmares_ , she remembered his sudden wakings every morning and how he would immediately go to pray or for a walk when he woke, were they causing him such distress?  
“How many nights?” She pressed. Casavir shrugged before he replied.  
“A while, few weeks I suppose. Nothing you should concern yourself with my lady.” He spoke, his voice seemed to silently plead her not to push further.  
She remained silent, her eyes scouring him from the distance. Debating with herself whether she should try to bleed him for more answers. After considering his tone and reading his body language she decided to leave the matter – for now.

This was his moment, he was going to wait for her to have her bath first and then present her with her long lost cloak but it was too late now, it was now or never.  
“My lady, I… emm…. I have travelled all across Skyrim. I made it my duty to find you, to right the wrong I did to you.” He kept his head hung low as his deep baritone voice spoke with wariness.  
“Orgnar told me you came in with Bishop. Is this true.”  
“Yes. We both have been on the road together trying to find you.”  
“So you can’t get along with each other when I’m with you, but you’re both happy to travel together when I’m not?” She questioned childishly.  
“Believe me my lady, it has not been an easy task. Bishop and I are very different, but we have managed to once again set aside our differences.”  
Casavir responded quickly, it was true he found Bishop to be deplorable and despised his insolent and spiteful attitude at time but he slowly began to see what she had spoke of. But Casavir already knew Bishop had more heart than he allowed others to know.  
“I see.” She replied. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

“My lady… I” He began but his words got stuck in his throat as her beautiful eyes captivated him agains.  
There she was, she did not look like a mighty powerful Dragonborn he had travelled so far to fight alongside for. More like a beautiful maiden untainted by the hardships of the world.  
Her tunic hung loosely and baggy to her body. He swallowed hard when he saw her exposed smooth tawny coloured legs, her earthy brown hair falling perfectly down one side of her face. He gulped down a lump in his throat and clenched his fists.

Bishop was right, he had let the temptation inside him and the desire to hold her made him hold her closer than he should have at the ball.  
His Beautiful lady… The young child came back to mind and the painful desire of children he could never have with her filled him.  
_Pull yourself together man!_

“I must apologize again for my behavior at High Hrothgar.” He said as he bowed his head. “It was irresponsible, foolish. Disrespectful and careless.”  
“Are you just going to read out the dictionary to me?” She interrupted. His eyes looked up to hers, for a moment he thought she was mocking him, but when he saw her beautiful full lips form into a smile he felt a soft wave of calm eased him.

She smiled taking a step closer to him. “I am sorry that I ran off and left you on the top of that mountain.” She replied. She could no longer hold the cold facade towards him, he was too adorable! He looked at her, many emotions flitted through him but his eyes settled on relief as the corners of his mouth curled up.  
“You do not need t-”  
“Yes I do. You are indeed new to these lands, and it was wrong of me to be careless of your well being.” She interrupted. Taking another step towards him.  
“Perhaps. We could agree to disagree?” He too took a step towards her. She giggled with a nod, without thinking she raised her hand and placed it gently against his jaw. She felt the ruggedness of his cheek, a little like find sandstone.

He Flinched back a little as her touch startled him. He was not used to this, he was used to his own hand, or the pelt of a fist to his face but not the touch of an angel.  
Her soft delicate hand against his face was the last blow that took down the great stone walls around his heart.  
The moment blinded him, he forgot his oath, the pledge of the holy Paladins. Nothing mattered anymore but her, he looked into her eyes and saw his future, whether a lover or protector he would never leave her side.

“Hey ladyship.” Bishop banged on the door making them both jump.  
Casavir ripped from his thoughts took a step back to regain his composure when he heard Bishop barged in.  
“What is it?” Sharis asked as she peered round Casavir who was a deep crimson in his cheeks his wide eyes fixed to the floor.  
“Is there anything else you will require my lady?” Casavir mumbled.  
“wha.. Oh no that’s fine. Thank you Casavir.” She replied rather confused.  
He bowed his head and made a swift exit. Barging past Bishop. Bishop was no fool, he saw Casavir’s face, like he had been betrayed by his emotions.

“What’s up, Princess?” He said suspiciously walking into the room.  
“Nothing, what do you want?” She said as she sprinkled more lavender salts into the bath for the sixth time.  
“You, of course, what else would I want?” He said as he snatched the salts from her. She could smell the ale on his breath.  
_Oh for the…_ “You mean you want me to get undressed and submit to your silly desires?” She laughed and slipped away from his presence. Bishop laughed loudly as he followed quick on her heels.  
“Now you’re talking my language, ladyship. Come here, let me help you get out of those clothes. Let’s hop in the tub and have some fun.” He said as he grabbed her waist. “Or I have a better idea. I’ll use my knife and cut that tunic off, fast and simple.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled his hands away. “I was only half serious.”  
Bishop’s playful grin screwed up into a frown. “And I’m hell of alot serious! Come here before I force you to come, and believe me darling, that’s something you don’t want to happen.” She sensed an intense hunger building in him as he slipped closer to her, she suddenly felt uneasy as she looked at the Ranger.

“Watch it, Ranger!” She slapped his hand away as he gripped her tunic and pulled gently.  
“What…. You want me to sing you a love ballad? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not really that kind of guy.” He frowned and spoke deeply in her ear.  
“I take what I want, when I want. Life’s too short for me to waste it on something that doesn’t get me anything.”  
“You’re such a pig.” She looked away to the table at the spiced wine Casavir had brought in for her, her favorite. _I need a drink._

“I’m a man of action, princess. Come here… before I lose it.” He spoke viciously as he grabbed her and turned her round.  
“What do you thi-” She began and paused when she saw his eyes. He exhaled slowly, a deep sigh of warm breath, as if he’d been holding it. Then it was as if his leash broke, whatever had been holding him back was now broken and lying on the ground miles behind him.  
He gripped her tightly and lunged, his mouth coming against hers hard and fierce, his body pressing against the length of hers.  
“Stop Bishop!” She gasped for breath, but he didn’t obey. “Don’t make me cut something off.”

He paused and looked fiercely into her eyes. “Watch your words.” He bit off those last words with such menace it was as if he held the keen edge of his blade against her throat. It should’ve scared her but she heard the plea just beneath his words.  
He smirked when he saw the rising crimson blush in her face and her haggard breath.  
“I should have never let you near me.” She tried to push away.  
“Why?… am I stirring something inside of you? Desire? passion?” He pressed against her, forcing her helplessly against the table, his eyes sparkled like embers of the Skyforge, his voice was low, and seductive. “I’ll gladly stir it some more til you give in.”

He pressed his lips against her exposed slender neck, she let out an uncontrollable moan as it sent a flicker of desire through her. She gripped Bishops shoulders to hold on as he made her hot with passion.  
“I missed you, Princess.” He groaned softly and bit gently at her earlobe, pulling her shirt over her shoulders, exposing her naked shoulders, daring to expose her breasts. She couldn’t deny what her body wanted, she needed to feel loved, be touched to be held.

She considered the idea, allowing Bishop to continue kissing her neck and down her to her collarbone, but when she imagined being held she was met with cool blue eyes and raven black hair, strong baritone voice that invigorated her senses, she suddenly felt uncomfortable with Bishop being so close.  
“No, no, I can’t!.” She panted trying to push him away but he held her tighter.  
“Your voice is trembling and your eyes are wandering. You’re shit at lying princess, you could be more convincing than that!” He gripped her tighter, his hands holding her chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes.  
“You will be mine tonight.” He chuckled and let his other hand wander between her thighs inches away from her woman hood.  
“I SAID NO!” She snapped and pushed him back as hard as she could.  
He looked back at her shock and anger, hurt and ashamed. She scowled at him, still breathless as adrenaline and the desire still ran wild in her veins.

“FINE! Have it your way.” He snapped and stormed out, slamming the door loudly. She stayed put for a while, digging her nails into the table as she regained herself. _What was that?_ She thought.  
She wedged a chair against the door and undressed herself and climbed into the tub. _Gods this is wonderful._ she sighed, letting all the worries and stresses out into the water.  
_Bishop you bastard,_ she thought. They had just been reunited after weeks, months! And all he wanted was that?! She pulled in her lips as she looked up at the roof. She wanted to scream yet what good would it do? Her body was hot all over, tingling, begging for more but she was still shook up. She had never experienced anything like that. Never had Bishop been so bold. She sat in the tub until she went pruned and the water began to run cool.

 _I need air,_ she thought as she climbed out of the bath and dried herself off. She slipped into a fresh undershirt and leather trews, grabbed the bottle of spiced wine and left her room.  
Bishop was sat in the shadowed part of the inn, locals were sat drinking and celebrating the days victory. She began to head for the door but her wandered over to the Paladin sat by the fire pit staring into a tanker. His face looked up to her as she walked to the door biting the cork out of her bottle and giving him a smile.  
“My lady, may I ask where you are going at such a late hour?” He asked as he stood to attention.

She saw Bishop intense glare honing in on her, like a wolf on the hunt. She tried to ignore him and took a swig of her wine.  
“For some air. I shan’t be long.” She waved and walked to the door.  
“Would you like me to accompany you?” Casavir asked, almost begging.  
“I’ll be fine Cas… Enjoy your tea.” She smiled as walked out the door.

The cold air hit her hard but was welcoming as she breathed in deeply, the fresh autumn air was so crisp. The sky was peppered with stars and streams of crystal blue and purple. _So beautiful_ , she smiled as she took another drink and wandered down the path out of town.  
_Men! all they want is a woman to sate their lewd desires!_ She spat venomously as she sat on a rock by the stream.  
He heart began to raced again as she remember the hot moment she came so close to becoming Bishop’s bed warmer.  
It could have been simple. She could have just let him take her… but… those beautiful blue eyes flickered in her mind again. My lady. _His voice timbered in her memory making her swoon._  
She didn’t want Bishop, she wanted Casavir…. was that it? She took another swig. Even if she did want Casavir, he could not do such things with her, and she could not make him. He was a Paladin.  
She let out a pained sigh as she realised she craved a forbidden fruit. _Damn it._

**Snap.**

She jumped to attention to the sound of breaking twigs, an animal?…Bishop…?  
“Bishop…?” She called, staying silent waiting for a response… Nothing…. “B-”  
“Not a sound, my little mouse.” A strong sudden grip grabbed her and knife pressed against her throat. A familiar gruff voice filled the air.  
_Fuck….Thorn…._ she froze as Bandits surrounded her.  
“What do you want Thorn.” She spat coldly.  
“I want you, little mouse.” He laughed deeply and pressed the knife harder against her neck. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, and well… I think you and I have some unfinished business.” He chuckled in his throat.  
She remained silent as she began to weigh her chances of escape.

If she shouted she would alert the town she was in trouble, but would they come to her aid? She was the Dragonborn, after all. If she shouted, there was also a chance Thorn would just kill her there and then.  
“I told you I would find you.” He said and he ordered her to hold her hands out front. she did so and a bandit placed shackles on her wrists and nodded to Thorn.  
“You’re coming with me, little mouse.”  
“Like hells I am.” She snarled, her eyes hazed over with smoke as she readied a thu’um.  
“Fu-” She began but blacked out as a fist struck her knocking her into blackness.

_______________________________________________

It had been a while since she had gone out for her walk.  
_What was taking so long. Had she fallen asleep outside?_ Casavir grabbed his cloak and sword and headed outside to find her, he’d be honored if she was cold and wanted his cloak to warm herself. He lit a torch and walked down through the village to find her..  
_Such a beautiful night…_ He thought as he saw the clear night sky dotted with stars and an uray of beautiful colours. Somehow, everything seemed more colourful and vivid to him.  
He checked the blacksmith and the lumber mill. Nothing. He walked around the entire Village to find her, surely she wouldn’t have gone far…? After checking the entire Village twice he began to worry.

“Excuse me, have you seen the Dragonborn?” He asked a guard who pointed in the direction he’d seen her wander away. Casavir thanked the guard and went to give her his cloak.  
“My lady?” He called to her when he couldn’t see her.

**Crunch.**

He paused when he heard what sounded like broken glass under his boot. It was glass, a broken bottle. Casavir knelt down and inspected the smashed bottle, _spiced wine?_ He suddenly got knot in his gut as he realized it was the wine bottle she had taken out with her. He recognized the shoddy label on the bottle as the one he picked from the basement.

“SHARIS!” He shouted louder, he checked the stream but the water wasn’t fast enough to pull her down stream. Wine was spilt all over the road so she hadn’t been drunk and gone for a swim, she wasn’t so foolish… He didn’t like this, something was wrong.  
He dropped his burnt out torch and ran back to the inn where Bishop was feeling sorry for himself.

Bishop noticed Casavir’s expression and sensed something was wasn’t right, he followed Casavir into Sharis’s room.  
“What are you doing, Paladin?” Bishop asked with a drunken bite to his words.  
“She’s gone, I can’t find her!” Casavir ran a hand through his hair as he began to panic.  
“What do you mean she’s gone? She can’t be far, she’s left her things here.”  
“Bishop! I can’t find her, the bottle of wine she took out was smashed on the road and it was still full. Something’s happened!” Casavir snapped getting aggravated. It was so unlike to express such emotion.  
Bishop’s scowl fell as a twinge of worry sparked behind his eyes. He whistled to Karnwyr and they left the inn to inspect the scene. Perhaps Karnwyr could pick up on her scent.

“Find anything?” Bishop asked Karnwyr who was sniffing around. He was making small growls and whimpers so Bishop knew that he was picking up something.  
“Bishop, you travelled with her longer than I. Think, who would want her?” Casavir asked Bishop as he stood rubbing his neck.  
“She’s the Dragonborn, she’s cleared bandit parties pissed off the Thalmor and even those cultists! Everybody wants her head.” Bishop sighed.  
Casavir’s blade was itching to be unsheathed. He was getting rather pissed off with Bishop. Why was he not taking it so seriously?!  
Before he could open his mouth he was stopped by Karnwyr who came back with something in his mouth.  
A small piece of cloth, Bishop took it from Karnwyr and inspected the cloth.

“What is it?” Casavir asked.  
“This looks like it belongs to ladyship.” Bishop replied still inspecting it.  
“We need to find her, Bishop.” Casavir said as Karnwyr was running off into the woods.  
“I agree. We leave now.” Bishop said as he took off after his wolf and Casavir followed. They were on the hunt.

_Please be safe, my lady._


	10. Kidnapped

Sharis awoke shivering against a dirty stone walls as cold wetness seeped into the cloth on her back. Her vision returned blurry, dazed. The first thing she saw was the dirty sodden floor. The room was dim lit and the smell of damp and old blood filled her nostrils. Water dripping on the floor to a slow rhythm which echoed around her.

_Where am I?_

Her head ached and when she tried to reach for the painful spot she realized her hands were chained to the wall above her. _What the?!_ She tried to say aloud but something metal locked her jaw in place. She peered down at the puddle on the floor and saw they had gagged her some kind of metal device.

_WHAT THE FUCK?!_

_Ok! Don’t panic. Stay calm…._ She tried to sooth herself as she felt her frustration and worry fill her.  
She heard footsteps drawing closer. The an old rusty door creaked open from the other side of the room and two bandits walked in drunk and laughing hysterically.

“She’s awake.” One slurred, calling through the door to someone. She looked over and saw a familiar tall Nord walk into the room. _Thorn…_ She scowled at him as he began to walk closer.

“Hu, hu, hu, sleep well little mouse?” He asked with a wicked grin. He reached up and stroked her cheek with his thumb but she jerked away making him laugh deeply.

“Good thing I put this in, isn’t it?” He grinned grabbing the metal gag and giving it a waggle along with her face. “I had it made especially. Do you like it?”  
She glared at him. He had her raised off the ground just level to his height so it was hard to avoid his graze. His deep blue eyes wandered down her body, she felt his large rough hands grab her waist and run slowly down to her hips. She revolted against his touch and kicked out making him stumble back into the men watching, she wiggled under her restrains hoping by some miraculous way, they would break and allow her to escape.

“Bring her upstairs.” He laughed, watching her attempts. He then turned and walked away leaving the guards to stand learning at her.

“Shame Thorn won’t let us have you until he’s had his share.” One bandit sneered after he was sure Thorn was out of earshot. The bandit staggered over and fumbled around with the chains above her, purposely pressing himself against her. His Putrid breath and BO made her feel sick as it penetrated her senses. Not to mention the disgusting grunts and groans he was making as he rubbed up against her.

“Fuck off!” She barked behind her gag but it just came out as a muffled sound. She kicked out again and managed to kick him back into the other man who came forward and punched her so hard in her gut. They unhooked her from the wall and she landed on her feet, hunched over in pain as she struggled to regain herself after such a strike.

“Lucky hit.” She spat, again it just came out as grumbles.  
They guided her, more like shoved her – through the damp cold corridors. She looked at the shackles around her wrists. She couldn’t use fire tomes because the metal would just burn up and melt her skin. Using her spark tomes would send her tomes to backfire on herself. She had to keep her wits about, look for any hole in this net she was in, any opportunity.

 _C’mon Sharis, you can do this._ She said to herself as they pushed her on into a large room. Lit by an open fire in the centre of the room. Tables pushed against the walls as a room full of bandits sat feasting and drinking. All went silent, watching her as she was pushed past them all, a soft wave of sniggers and grumbling followed her to a large table overlooking the others.  
“And here she is! The almighty Dragonborn.” He held up his tanker to her as the bandits roared triumphantly. She looked around at all the wild bandits, staring at her like hungry dogs that hadn’t been fed in days.

“Tonight! I will conquer this fierce beauty!” Thorn roared in a tipsy stupor.

 _Conquer? What?_ She thought as she remembered what he had said on their last meeting. How he wanted her as a trophy. Her stomach turned painfully when she looked around at the filthy bandits all looking at her, she could feel their eyes undressing her.

_Fuck! fuck! What now?!_

_FOCUS! Sharis!_  
All the men laughed as Thorn jumped down from the table and out stretched his arms for her. She took a step back but the bandits behind her gave her an almighty push making her fall into him.

“Such an obedient little mouse.” He teased looping her shackles over his head wearing her like a necklace as the room sung with drunken laughter. “Tell me… how can a mighty dragon be so small and delicate?” He growled deeply and kissed her neck and he ran his hands down her waist. She gasped through the gag and tried to push away from him, he was strong and his hands gripped onto her waist making her wriggle more.

“Should I fuck you here? My men would love to watch.” He chuckled taunting her further.

 _You have to do something Sharis!_ She said to herself, she tried to conjure fire in her hands but nothing came….. Sparks? Not one flicker.

 _Where’s my Magicka?!_ She panicked as he caressed her body, running a hand down her back and gripping her ass cheeks tightly in his hands. A involuntary squeal escaped her which made his men’s laughter louder. This only infuriated her more and she dug her nails deeply into the back of his neck as she brought her knee up hard between the legs. His body began to buckle as a long pained exhale came from him, now was her chance.  
She unhooked herself from round his neck and hit him hard on the back of his head before making a run for the door. She grabbed a sword off the closest table and ran.

The thugs jumped from their seats and what looked like a wave of men came charging at her. She swung the sword and cut into the closest man but her strike was not hard enough to stop the other from grabbing her wrists hard, so hard she lost grip of her sword and it landed on the stone floor with a clatter. She kicked and thrashed around against them as Thorn’s men restrained her within seconds.  
_Well, that didn’t work…._

 _Now what?!_  
“Still got some fight in you, I look forward to breaking it.” Thorn laughed wiping the blood from his neck. “Little mouse has sharp claws” He joked showing his men his blooded neck as he came walking over, still wearing the smug grin she so desperately wanted to wipe off his face. She tried to kick out again at him but this time he caught them and pulled her legs around his waist as his men held her steady.

Her heart was beating so fast she feared it would burst from her chest and fly through the walls and miles away from this place. She froze, scared as Thorn unforgiving pressed himself against her… _Oh God please no!_ She begged silently as he grinned. Then he paused and looked at with amusement.

“Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho… I know that look.” He guffawed, hooking a finger round the gag forcing her full attention on him.  She was shaking like a leaf her breathing rapid. He recognized the innocence in her eyes – as much as she tried she could not hide it.

“Am I right in thinking you’re still a virgin? Little mouse…?” He grinned.

 _Oh Gods please help me!_ She thought.

 _He noticed, how could he know?! Was it that obvious…_ she felt embarrassed and afraid when the men around her laughed and jeered, gripping her tighter as if they were getting excited about the idea.

“Oh this just gets better!!” Thorn laughed. “Not only do I conquer you! But I get to claim your purity.”

She struggled against the men with more vigor, she felt relieved and surprised when Thorn willingly released her.

“Take her to my room.” Thorn ordered as three men dragged her away. They pulled her through a narrow corridor kicking and screaming against the metal in her mouth.

 _He can’t have it! It’s mine! It’s all I have left!_  She thought, tears building in her eyes. Fear turned to rage  as adrenaline ran through her body like a wild fire. If Thorn wanted her. He would have her kicking and screaming!  
_Bishop…… Cas….. Where are you?!_

_________________________  
“You sure this is the place?” Casavir asked Bishop as they ran through the darkness batting away branches and crouched down amongst the ferns, staring at a stone tower dangerously on the brink of collapsing into the lake.

“This is where Karnwyr has brought us. Fuck!” Bishop replied readying his bow. “This is Thorn’s little hideout.”

“Thorn?”

“Yeah. I told her to kill him, but she was so merciful to him it made me sick.”

“What are you talking about?!” Casavir strained his whisper.

“Me and ladyship were in Falkreath when we crossed paths. He wanted Sharis as a bed warmer, a trophy.” Bishop began and paused when he saw an anger spark behind Casavir’s eyes.

“Stupid girl let him go! Didn’t want me to kill him. I told her he’d be back.”

“Well what are we waiting around here for? We need to get in there!” Casavir took a step out of their hiding place.

“Hold on biggen. You can’t go on like that.” Bishop pulled him back, Casavir turned to him his a deadly glare. “Like what?!” He refrained himself from yelling.

“They’ll see you coming and then we’ll all be fucked.”

“Watch your…”

“Either loose the armour or stay here.” Bishop silenced him.

“I’m not unarming myself!” Casavir scowled, Bishop shrugged and pushed through the darkness as quiet as mist he slipped through the trees. He notched an arrow and shot down the the thug in watch before he continued forward.  
_Are you really just going to sit here and let him go in alone._

_I swore an oath._

_To protect the innocent, c’mon Cas, you’re still a Paladin even without the armour._

_But…._

_She needs you!_  
Her smile came back to him, _she’s in there! They could be doing anything to her._ The thought of her being inside there and what they would do with such a beautiful woman.

“… Damn it…!” He cussed and proceeded to in unbuckle himself out of his armour.

Now in his undershirt and leathers he wrapped his armour in his cloak and concealed it underneath a bundle of fallen leaves before he pushed on towards the ruins. He had lost sight in Bishop, probably already inside, so he remained on target until he heard what sounded like a struggle.

“Shouldn’t have come back here Ranger!” A voice growled.

Casavir turned the corner to see Bishop in a choke lock, _a thug had managed to jump him? Well there’s something you don’t see everyday!_ He thought.

Casavir came up behind the unsuspecting bandit and gave a hard punch into the side of his skull and grabbed him before he could hit the floor, slamming him against the tree.

“Where is she?” He asked before realizing his strike had knocked the thug out. _Oh…_ he backed up and let him slump against the tree. An arrow suddenly penetrated the thugs neck pinning him there, Casavir turned to see Bishop lowering his bow.

“Really?!” Casavir exclaimed quietly. “Was that really necessary?”  
“Yes! The wanker snuck up on me.” Bishop snapped.

“What? Don’t like the taste of your own medicine?” Casavir raised an amused brow.

Bishop stared at Casavir a look of disgust on his face.

“Ok, no…. look, Paladin. You can’t say that… that just sounded queer.”

“No it didn’t!” Casavir snapped he began to blush realizing what Bishop meant.

“Yes it did. Good try at trying to be funny but you failed terribly.” Bishop replied with a cringe expression.

“Oh shut up! We don’t have time for your twisted mind!” Casavir growled as he continued on.  
They followed up to the ruins to see Karnwyr hounding round a trap door whimpering.

“And where were you about five minutes ago, eh?” Bishop tutted pushing Karnwyr’s large head away from the space. Though the dead body just a few feet away with torn skin and a gaping hole where his neck should have been answered Bishop’s question.

Casavir and Bishop snuck into the building through the trapdoor. Taking great caution not to be detected, Casavir followed Bishop’s every move.

A drunken bandit was stood on the ledge, Casavir wasn’t in the mood to sneak around anymore. There was no way Casavir was getting  past without being detected anymore. They paused and listened in, they could hear men laughing further down into the ruins.  
“So wen ar wee gunna get a piec?” They heard one bandit belch in a drunken mess.

“Not yet, you know what’ll happen. Thorn will have his fill first, then we’ll get what’s left.”

 _What?_ He grimaced in disgust but listened carefully to their conversation.

“Thorns either a brave bastard or a foolish one. Doesn’t the Dragonborn have companions with her?” Another said. “What? You mean Bishop and that shiny knight? I heard she ditched them long ago.”

“Yeah she’s been alone for weeks. No one knows she’s here!”

They all laughed wickedly as they continued drinking.

Bishop growled through bared teeth as they realized she was here. “That… bastard!”

Casavir had heard enough. The horrible thoughts he had tried to silence had now become reality. Something dark had made its way inside Casavir, he didn’t care anymore about his damn vows, his oath… Hells with it! She needed him!  The Paladin went into action mode, they didn’t know what hit them. All in a drunken mess laughing and talking about such a vulgar topic. Turned into panic as they flailed about fumbling for their weapons.

 _Rapists! Murderers! Thieves! To oblivion with you all!!!_  
Bishop walked cautiously down the steps, he didn’t know what to say. He’d always joked and bullied Casavir about him having a breaking point. Bishop feared he may have hit it, and it was terrifying. Casavir was already a force not to be reckoned with on the battlefield, but in this moment…. He no longer looked like a Knight of light, but more a demonic force who had stepped out of the oblivion gates to wreak havoc on mortals.

Casavir was stood motionless in the center of the room, the walls painted with the blood of the drunken thugs. The fire lit the room and danced off Casavir’s blood smeared face and his strong form looked monstrous.

“Now what?” Bishop murmured cautiously, looking rather bewildered by Casavir’s actions.  
Casavir didn’t reply, he walked over to one of the bandits who had become impaled on a broken table leg when Casavir threw him out of the way.

“Where is she?” His voice low and deep made it sound like a monstrous growl. The man looked at Casavir with pure terror in his eyes. Casavir repeated the question and knelt down to face the dying drunk.

“Thorn.. Downstairs.” The man gargled a reply as his last breath left him.  
Karnwyr was growling and scratching at a heavy wooden door. Bishop opened it and Karnwyr scurried down the corridor without hesitation. Bishop bolted down the corridor after him and Casavir shortly after.

His heart raced and worry filled him when he heard her a woman’s screams coming from behind another wooden door further down the hall.

“Princess!” Bishop called shooting down another of Thorn’s men as he came running at him and Karnwyr took down the other.

“My lady!” Casavir shouted as he burst through the door.

 _… Mara’s mercy…._  
He stood grounded to the spot when he saw her. Her hands in shackles above her head, gagged. Her whole body on display as her clothes were nothing but rags on the floor. Her legs spread apart and a large naked man knelt between them, pressing a knife against her throat.

“Hold it right there!” Thorn barked. “Come any closer and I’ll slit her throat!” Casavir felt his heart thumping in his ears, rage bubbling in his veins, his eyes clouded by a red haze as he glared at the disgusting man. Before Casavir could react Bishop came up behind Casavir and fired an arrow which found its way into Thorns back.

Thorn jolted back from the impact and roared, throwing his knife towards them as it missed Bishop and stuck into Casavir’s shoulder. Bishop charged at Thorn who jumped up, wielding an axe from the side of the bed.

Pulling the knife from his shoulder, Casavir left Bishop to deal with the filth as he ran to his lady’s side immediately pulling the furs over her.

“My lady, are you alright?” He asked as he leant over to cut the rope from her shackles. Her eyes refused to meet his eyes as tears glistened her cheeks. He pulled her up and she fought with the gag. He held her gently her body quivering underneath his hands.

Casavir turned her face gently to inspect the lock at the back of her head. He was no good with locks, he’d never picked a lock in his life! Still he tried to find a weak point in the device.

There was a loud crash and shouting which made him turn to see Thorn and Bishop fighting. Bishop, grabbing a glass bottle off the table and smashed it into the blond man’s face making him fall onto the floor stunned and and bleeding. All was quiet for a moment until Thorn’s laugh broke the silence.  
“Not so mighty now are you? Dragonborn… eh?” He mocked her.

“Shut your mouth Thorn!” Bishop snarled as he stepped closer to him brandishing the now broken bottle.

“I should have fucked her little virgin cunt sooner.” Thorn began to chuckle. “Forced her to have my child!” He barked.

“Well you missed your chance, you’ll never be able to give anyone children once I’m through with you!”  
Casavir felt the dark rage rippling within him – slowly, it began to consume him. The thought of that filth defiling her was the tipping point of any restraint Casavir had, he could contain himself no longer.

“Bishop, take her out of here and find her some clothing, and someway to get that thing off her.” Casavir rose from the bed after wrapping another fur round her naked shoulders.

“What? And leave you to have all the fun? No chance.” Bishop retorted picking his dagger of the ground and readying himself to gut Thorn.

“Bishop, do as I say…” Casavir growled. With a silent pause Bishop eventually nodded and walked over to Sharis, she didn’t argue. She wanted out of that awful place!

“C’mon princess, Let’s find you some clothes.” Bishop said as he pulled her up to her feet and wrapped an arm around her, guiding her out of the room.

She stayed silent with a blank expression, a surreal feeling filled her. She felt as if she had left her body for a while. He sat her down on the bench in the mead hall where the bodies of the bandits scattered the room.

Bishop brought her a bottle of unopened wine and some ragged clothes he found in a draw.

“Here. They smell like ass, but they’ll do till we get back to Riverwood.” He said handing her the clothes.

She took them with a quiet nod and put them on her lap. It was a close call… too close. She had been to having her innocence taken from her.  
She felt a cold wet nose rub against her hands as Bishop played with the lock at the back of her head. She looked down at the beautiful black wolf, his head nuzzled up and rested on her lap, looking up with it’s molten eyes. As the realization came to her, that it was over she was safe. Bishop, Karnwyr, Casavir…. They had found her. Fresh tears fell down her cheeks as relief hit her like a wave, she bit down on the metal chunk in her mouth to refrain from crying.

 _They found me, they found me… They found me like that!_ A wave of shame washed over her as she suddenly drew back her tears.

 _Oh Gods he found me like that!_ She wanted to scream. She wished they hadn’t found her now, which was an awful thing to think.  
“There we go. It’s off.” He replied pulling it free allowing her to cough for fresh air, he knelt down beside Karnwyr and began to pick at the shackles.

“Thanks.” She whispered under a shaky breath. A blood curdling scream echoed through the corridor and into the hall startling them both.

“I think the Paladin may have reached his limit.” Bishop sighed, answering her question she had not asked. He broke her free from her shackles.

“I told you to be ready for when he breaks.” Bishop reminded her.  
Another scream came rattling through the corridor… then another… and another.

 _What was he doing in there?!_ She thought, Bishop popped the cork on the wine and took a sip before offering it to her.

She nodded gratefully and took a sip as she ruffled her hand gently into the thick black fur.

“Hey, ladyship.” Bishop spoke as he sat down beside her. “I’m sorry.”

_______________________________  
Casavir knelt over the mangled body that was once Thorn. The man inside him somewhat satisfied was stomping away and allowing a holy light to return to him. Coming back to reality as he saw what he had done.

He was disgusted by himself, yet he felt relieved, justice had been served. The fiend had been running rampant, and with a bandit party so large he knew she had not been the first to face such a vile meeting with this savage.  
He sheathed his blade and left the room while he still had a shred of sanity left within him. Walking down the corridor he ran his hand through his blood soaked hair, he could feel the drips down the back of his neck. As he drew closer to the mead hall he heard Bishop talking.

“If I knew you were a virgin I wouldn’t have forced myself on you before.” Bishop’s voice echoed through the corridor, Bishop’s voice stung Casavir as he ground to a halt before reaching the door.

 _…….. What?….._ Casavir thought, did he just hear correctly? _Bishop… he did what?_

“Whatever.” She muttered.  Her once sweet voice had lost all it’s strength and life, his gut felt like it was in knots, he took a deep breath through gritted teeth. The image of his lady being forced into such an act infuriated him.

Lost in his thoughts he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the puddle at his feet. He looked terrifying. He couldn’t walk in looking like that! Had he looked like that when he came to her on the bed?! She had no doubtly heard the screams of Thorn and if she saw him walk in like….

He grabbed a rag off the side table and a bottle of wine. He opened the bottle and threw a handful over his face. It smelt rich and stung as it went into all the cuts and scrapes he had acquired during his battle. He used the rag and wiped the blood from his face and healed himself as he heard their conversation continue.

“Sharis, I may be an ass at times but I would never have forced myself on you if I knew you…”

 _HE DID WHAT?!_ Casavir saw the haze of red cloud his eyes again as he heard those words. _Bishop…. Bishop dared touch her? No – FORCE himself onto her. When? Where? Why?!_ Oh he already knew why. That Ranger was no better than the thugs he had slain today. Casavir was ready to charge in there and give Bishop of taste of the axe he was now wielding, but when he turned to walk into the room he saw Bishop sat beside her. She was hunched over with her head resting against Karnwyr as his rested on her lap. He calmed immediately when he saw her, his heart ached in his chest and he felt the undeniable urge to cross the space between them and hold her in his arms.  
“Fuck me… What have you been doing in there?” Bishop exclaimed when he saw the state of Casavir. Casavir did not respond as his eyes fixed on her, she sat up and let Karnwyr nuzzle up and lick her face.

“Err sorry. Wrong choice of words there…” Bishop grunted awkwardly.

“It’s fine. Can we go now?” She asked wearily.

“I’m gonna stay behind and see what loot they have stashed away.” Bishop responded taking a swig of the wine in his hand before handing the bottle back to her. She took it with a heavy nod and began to stand walking away to find somewhere to dress.

“My lady…” Casavir began to move once he saw her walk shakily toward a wooden door.

“Don’t.” She replied quickly. His words stuck in his throat and felt like they were choking him for a moment as she just turned her head slightly in his direction, her eyes still entertained by something on the ground. “…… Just don’t.”  
Casavir, stood awkwardly in the now empty room hall filled with his fallen enemies. He looked around at all the people who had once sat drinking in these halls and how they now were part of the decoration. Fear – yes fear filled him. The fear he had failed her. The fear he had upset her, that he had frightened her. After a few minutes she returned wearing a cotton dress and some fur shoes she found stuffed away.

She didn’t say a word, neither did he. She walked over to a man propped up against the table and pulled the sword that was jammed into his chest. She walked past Casavir and headed back down the hall where Casavir had come from.  
_______________

They were back at the Sleeping Giant. She had not spoken a word to him since they left Thorn’s former domain. She had gone back to collect his head and left it stuck on a spear for the elements to have their way with. She had kept Casavir at a distance as they walked back, she had thanked him for coming to her aid and she felt like she could say nothing more.

He had left her to return to her room and change before meeting to speak with Esbern and Delphine. He kept his distance also as he felt her building a wall around herself, not wishing to upset her further, she had already been through a lot. Bishop returned to Riverwood in the afternoon with a bag brimmed with coin and plenty of loot to sell.

She stayed in Delphine and Esbern’s company until night fall when they all retired for bed.  
Her night was restless every time she closed her eyes, and began to fall into slumber she would be landed straight back in that room. Filthy drunken thugs laughing and groping her, a bandit prying her legs open ready to violate her.  
She bolted up in bed gasping for breath as she quickly wiped away the fresh tears from her face. This was the fifth time she had woken up now. She would have just given up by now but she was so tired. The recent events hounded her dreams. Fear of being back there with that man… Those same cold callous eyes glaring straight into hers as he laughed at her struggles, reveled in her fear.  
She curled up on her bed and stared at the candle she lit to comfort her in her room. She needed sleep, and to do that she needed comfort, there was one thing that could sooth her. He always made her feel safe, just being in the same room as him made all her worries fade into nothing.  
Casavir.  
She quietly slipped out her room and was now stood at his door. Maybe just his scent was all she needed. If she just asked for his cloak…. say she was cold? Perhaps it would help fight away her nightmares. She took a deep breath, placing a hand against the wooden border between her and the Paladin, she paused. Was it wise to wake him? He looked in desperate need to sleep himself. And she didn’t want to wake Bishop in the other room!  
She didn’t need to wake him, finally plucking up her courage she pushed against his door ever so gently as it slowly opened. She peered into the room, a low burning candle by his bed, orange flickers of light danced around the room and she could just make out his cloak and satchel on the chair and Casavir laying on his bed. He was asleep. She slid through the gap and walked carefully over to his cloak, as she pulled on the cloak and wrapped it round her, his scent wafted gently around her making her feel secure and protected.

She turned to leave but paused as she looked over at Casavir, sleeping on the bed, wearing his new undershirt and trews. The sheets screwed up at the bottom of the bed from tossing and turning. Laid on his side on the verge of laying on his back, with one hand under the pillow and the other resting on his chest as it rose and fell slow and steady. His broad and thick shoulders looked inviting, safe… warm. His raven black hair was disheveled, different from his usual well groomed appearance and his sculpted cheeks looked so kissable. Her lips parted as a small exhale escaped her lips, she paused. He was beautiful. He looked like a work of art, sculpted for display in the temple of the Aedra.  
She knelt down by his bed and examined his features closer. He looked so peaceful in sleep, long lashes fluttered as a faint smile came on his face. _Away in a dream_ , she smiled lovingly.  _Hopefully this one would not wake him in such a blind panic._

“Sleep well my sweet Casavir.” She whispered softly reaching over to move a strand of hair that was just out of place..  
**Bang, crash.**  
She almost jumped out of her skin when the sound pierced the deathly silent room, she turned to the tanker that fell off the table when the cloak had snagged on the corner somehow.  
_Shit! Shit!_  
She turned back to Casavir, hoping it didn’t wake him, only to be met by his cool blue eyes staring back at her. His hand had unsheathed a blade from his pillow he was gripping with white knuckles. She froze hoping somehow he wouldn’t see her, that he’d just go back to sleep.

“My lady?!” His voice was deep and husky.

“Is everything alright?” He asked as he proceeded to sit up. She was in awe as she admired his waking features, those flint blue eyes veiled behind very droopy lids. His cheek he had been resting on was imprinted with creases from his pillow. _God’s he’s gorgeous._  
“Yes, sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I just… err… well… Your cloak… I need it.” She blubbered as she pulled her eyes away, unsure where to put herself. Casavir rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

“My cloak?” He yawned. Rather confused.

“I just needed something warm… I can’t sleep.” She replied as she got up and stood in front of him, draped in his cloak. “Can I borrow it?” She asked.

“Yes, of course. You do not need to ask my lady.” He replied.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” She bowed her head and headed for the door.  “My lady wait.” He quickly rose from the bed. She turned to face him, her eyes briefly met his for a moment before looking away. His eyes were so intense and the idea he’d seen her like that…..

His lips parted and closed for a while as he desperately struggled to find the words to speak. “My lady, My behavior back at the ruins. I wish to apologize. I… I fear that I…. emm.” He took a breath. “I hope I have not frightened you…?”  
She remembered how he looked being in that godforsaken place, the men that leered and laughed at her panic were now decorating the walls with their inners. The sight of Casavir coming to her on the bed, dripping with their blood. _Was Bishop right? Did he loose his control?_ Even with that into consideration, she never for a moment felt like she was in any danger in his presence. The moment she had heard his voice, seen him barge through the door, relief filled her and even though she had a blade to her throat she felt safe.

“You didn’t scare me.” She replied. A exhaled deeply and nodded his head, looking somewhat relieved by her response.

“I thank you my lady. The thought has troubled me since we departed from that place.” He smiled briefly. She glanced up through her lashes at him, how he stood before her. His tall thick set form, broad shoulders hidden behind his shirt and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She was so ashamed how he’d seen her, yet in his eyes only shone with loyalty. She clung desperately to the false smile she could feel melting away. She looked down at her feet to hide the trembling lips and the moisture building in his eyes, but he had already noticed.  
“My lady… I know you do not wish me to ask but…” His words were the breaking point, she knew he would ask sooner or later and she could contain it no longer. His calm rich voice was a shrine of comfort and she needed him.

“Cas…” She looked up at him as his eyes widened, many emotions passed through them as she began to shiver, holding back the sobs that were fighting to break free. She had contained them for so long she knew once the floodgates were open they would not stop for quite some time and she needed to hold onto something. She needed his calm, his solidity. She felt her tears beginning to fall down her face and her eyes blurred with more tears she could no longer hold back. She scrunched her eyes shut in aid to prevent it but this only made her eyes sting, she looked back down cradling herself tightly.  
Suddenly, something large came to her, warm and strong – yet gentle. The fresh masculine scent blanketed her, it was stronger than the scent on the cloak and it comforted her further. She reached out her arms and felt fabric and a strong chest pressed against her. She clung to the fabric desperately, in fear it would wash away with her floods of tears. Strong arms caught her as her knees buckled beneath her and the sobs broke free.

“It’s alright, my lady. You’re safe now.” A deep intoxicating voice soothed her softly. She nestled her face into the fabric and let the tears flow freely.


	11. Tears

Bishop

  
Karnwyr was sleeping, curled at Bishop’s feet as they sat in their usual spot in the shadowed corner in the sleeping giant.

“Lucky swine.” He sighed looking down at his sleeping wolf as he took another swing of the ale.

He couldn’t sleep. He felt awful, like it was partly his fault she had met Thorn in the first place. He knew it had been risky travelling into Falkreath forests, it WAS Thorns domain. If only he had listened to his gut and disobeyed her command to not kill him that day, then none of the past day’s events would have happened!  
_What a fucking mess._ He sighed deeply scratching his head as he stared down at the nicks and scratches carved into the table. He felt an uncomfortable cringe, thinking of how he had made a move on her. She had rejected him yes – but a part of her had enjoyed his advance. But now that bastard had stained the idea of anything intimate. She had changed now, flinching away when he tried to touch her or came too close.  
_So much for gratitude._

_Why do you even care?_

_I don’t._

_Bullshit._  
He did care, of course he cared. He cared about her, they had been through alot together. Ever since he saw her in that cave. Being thrown around like a ragdoll by that bandit who had stolen Karnwyr as his prize wolf. He remembered how he thought it was his lucky day when he found there wasn’t a guard in sight and his caged wolf unguarded. He was utterly shocked further when Karnwyr immediately whizzed past him and delved further into the cave to aid the little mage. He himself was curious, he’d never seen a mage take such a beating and pick themselves up so quickly. There was something about her, she was fierce and unrelenting. It made him curious even more how Karnwyr had gone to save her. He hated strangers. Why did he save her? Karnwyr had taken an immediate curiosity to Sharis, just as Karnwyr’s mother had taken curiosity to him.

He groaned and took another swig, tonight he would drown his sorrows in ale and hopefully it would help him forget about the whole ordeal for a time.  
Movement from the other side of the room made him look up. It was Sharis, she hadn’t seen him, he was well concealed in the dark corner with a low burning hearth. She was heading over to another door – Casavir’s door.

 _What’s she doing?_ He frowned. He watched as she stood at his door for a few moments before she gingerly pushed it open just a crack and peered inside.

He didn’t move, he didn’t want her seeing him. He just wanted to watch her and see where this was going, though a part of him felt rather aggravated she wasn’t at his door. She slipped inside and was gone.  
Curiosity got the better of him and he emerged from the shadows and quietly went over to the door, he carefully opened the door a jar and saw her knelt down beside Casavir who was asleep.

 _Ladyship, what are you doing?_ He thought as he continued to watch, she was wearing his cloak now. _So that’s what you’re doing._

He saw the end of the cloak snag on the chair and push against the table knocking a over the tanker that was on the top. Bishop jumped back when she spun round at the sudden clatter of metal as it hit the floor.  
“My lady?” He heard Casavir’s voice. _Well done princess,_ Bishop smirked shaking his head with a smile. _Such a clumsy girl._

Bishop peered back in and watched them talk, the atmosphere emanating from the room was tense and uncomfortable. He felt relieved they hadn’t seen him yet, he could leave if it got worse.

“Sorry I woke you.” Sharis said as he saw her heading for the door. _Oh shit,_ he jumped back again and was ready to dart back into the shadows until he heard Casavir call her back.

Bishop kept his distance from the door in case she left suddenly. A noise came from within, a noise of what he could only describe as someone crying. When he decided to peer in again he immediately wished he hadn’t. He clenched his teeth as he felt the hairs on his back stand on end as anger built inside him as he watched Casavir holding her as she sobbed into his shirt. They were on their knees and she was nestled up into him.  
He wasn’t sure what he was more angry about. The fact Casavir was holding her or the fact she had come to Casavir in her hour of need. She’d never confided in Bishop, come to think of it… he had never even see her cry before. A part of him wanted to break up the touching moment, but she was wrapped up his embrace and she looked like she needed it.

 _Well played Paladin… Well played._ Bishop sighed as he quietly shut the door and finally gave them some privacy. He’d had never come to him like that, not like he wanted to have her in tears against him. He wasn’t good with things like that. He grabbed his bottle of ale and headed for his room shortly followed by a drowsy dire wolf.

____________

“This looks safe enough, We should reach the temple by noon tomorrow.” Bishop said as he scoured his surroundings with his amber eyes. Karnwyr calmly walked over and settled by Allie’s side as Bishop dismounted from behind Sharis.

“Ok, I guess we’ll rest here for the night and se-.” Sharis said as she unsaddled Allie.

“I’ll get some wood to start a fire.” Bishop interrupted sharply and went off into the hills with his wolf close to his heels.

She watched as he disappeared into the rocky hills with his wolf, he’d been disconnected since Riverwood, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was troubling the Ranger. She’d have to try to bleed it from him somehow.  
She came to the front of Allie and rubbed between her eyes; Allie gave a soft nicker and nudged her head into Sharis’s stomach – her subtle way of asking for another reward for putting up with double the load. Sharis smiled and reached into her fur rucksack pulling out an apple and presenting it to Allie who was more than happy to accept.

A glimmer of steel and the creaks of metal armour along with heavy footsteps came to her attention, she looked over to see her loyal friend by her side, his calm blue eyes looking at her in return.  
“My lady. Do you not think you may be giving her too many treats.” He asked is a cautious tone.

“There is no such thing as too many treats.” She pouted. “Here, one for your snow.” She held up a bright red apple to Casavir. He smiled warmly and accepted the apple from her placing it in his satchel for later.

“We have been on our journey just shy of two days. Today I have watched you feed her five apples already.” He replied the corners of his lovely expressive lips curled upwards making her smirk.

“Ey. I have allot to make up for with her. Since I ditched her in Ivarstead.” She snapped playfully, watching as Casavir raised an amused brow and his lips curled upwards further. A soft timbering chuckle rumbled in his throat, she nodded her head and hid her blush before he noticed. _He knows he’s bloody handsome_ , she thought as she struggled to put reel in her bashful smile.  
“My lady? May I ask how you’re faring? I do not wish to pry but…” He began. It had been a few days since her little midnight breakdown.

She remembered how they sat on the floor as she drenched his shirt in snot and tears, whispering sweet nothing’s to comfort her along with a gentle squeeze when another flood of tears was wracked through her. After a long time of crying and when her sobs began to fade, he scooped her up and sat her down on the bed and then came and sat beside her.

It was perfect, it was just what the doctor ordered. When she could feel another tidal wave of tears coming he was there ready to blanket her with his large comforting form. She must have fallen asleep at some point because she had woken up that morning tucked up in her own bed cuddled up to his cloak.  
“I’m alright.” She replied with a thoughtful smile as she placed a hand on his armoured arm. “Thanks for asking.” He gave another warm smile as he gently bowed his head. He looked lovely when he smiled, his smile made his cool blue eyes twinkle and also emphasised his broad cheekbones making them look even more kissable.  
_Easy girl, don’t get ahead of yourself._ The voice inside her head spoke.

_I’m not!_

_Mmhm_

She tilted her head down as she hide her blush again as Casavir went to settle his horse.  
Being back on the road with her Paladin was great. She loved his sturdy vigilant persona, it always made her feel safe. He had not spoken a word of that night’s events until now – knowing they were alone. It was their little secret.

She even missed Bishop, his sharp tongue and dynamic mind was similar to her own and it comforted her in some strange way.  
She smiled from ear to ear, when she was with them she felt unstoppable. The Paladin, the Dragonborn, the Ranger and the wolf were all back together. She could couldn’t thank Casavir enough when he presented her that morning with her long lost cloak and the squeal for joy she made when she watched Casavir turn the corner of the sleeping giant holding the reins of her beloved horse, Allie. People must have thought she was being attacked or something, she did get a few stares and distant mutterings.  
They had set up camp that night in the rocky hills of the reach, it was a clear day with not a cloud in sight and she couldn’t smell any moisture in the air.

“Going to be a dry night.” She sniffed the air with a smile. It was always rather warm in the Reach, unlike most regions of Skyrim.

They decided to start a fire instead of waiting for Bishop to return. “Where is that Ranger?” She muttered to herself as Casavir sat on a rock sharpening his sword.

“Do you wish to go look for him?” Casavir asked as ceased the scraping sound of steel against stone. She shook her head. “He’ll be lurking somewhere, probably spying on us right now.” She muttered and came to sit beside him watching the whetstone in his hand glide along the edge of his blade.

His sword was like nothing she had seen before. From pommel to tip it was crafted to perfection. She knew it had been on his person for quite some time as of all the scratched in the blade and the leather grip well was well worn.

“How long have you had this sword?” She asked when she noticed he was watching her admiring it.

“Since I was 16. It is the only sword I have possessed in my life.” He replied, the small up curls of his lips told her he was proud of this weapon.

“Ever worry you’ll sharpen that til it’s nothing more than a toothpick?” She asked. She heard Casavir gauge a chuckle, his eyes glancing up to meet hers.

“I did when I was younger, but time has taught me otherwise.” He replied. She grinned softly and shuffled closer to him.  
“Casavir?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do you think you could teach me?” She asked. The whetstone in Casavir’s hand haltered as he registered her request.

“Teach you what my lady?” He asked with a puzzled expression.

“You know, how to use a sword.” She replied, running a finger down the glistening steel fuller of the blade.

“I thought you already knew….?”

“I know how to swing it around and to stick them with the pointy end.” She smirked. “But you have technique. When you fight it’s almost like you’re dancing.” She continued, _no wonder he was such a good dancer at the ball._  
Casavir looked confused and slightly worried, the only person he had taught is himself. He’d never taught anyone before. Suddenly he remembered what his mother had said to him when she had first taught him restoration magic. _“You now have the skill. Now remember to pass it on.”_ He suddenly became aware of the weight of the pendant around his neck as her voice rung in his memory.  
“Cas? Are you ok?” Sharis’s voice brought him back from his wandering thoughts and he blinked hard pulling himself back.

“Yes, sorry. I just got lost in thought.” He said with a subtle jerk of his head.

“You don’t have to teach me Cas, it’s alright.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” He blurted. “It would be an honor to teach you.”

He watched as her eyes shone vibrantly and beamed a huge smile, she gave a soft squeal as she jumped to her feet. “Really?! Oh thank you Cassy!” She pounced on him and wrapped her arms around his neck and cradling his head into her chest.  
Her happiness was short lived as a sound of rocks being disturbed from somewhere in the hills made her release him and turn in the direction of the sound.

“Bishop?” She called out, hoping it was him. When there was no reply she glanced over at Casavir who had already who was looking out in the direction of the noise, his face a crimson blush. His greatsword in hand, poised and ready for action.  
Shadows appeared around them and the shadows revealed to be people.

“Forsworn.” Casavir hissed as he readied himself. “My lady, get behind me!” Casavir took his stance. He had heard many tales about the Forsworn. How they’d attack carriages and people travelling through the Reach.

She took a step back, her destruction spells ready in her hands as more shadows appeared to surround them.  
“Mighty Dragon slayer, you have returned.” A young male voice presented itself. She knew that voice.

“Casavir wait. It’s alright, I know them.” She placed a hand on his arm. Casavir did not take his eyes away from the forsworn warriors surrounding them.

“…. Know them?” He questioned though his face expressed a mixture of confusion and wariness. He gripped the hilt of his blade tightly as he spotted one who dared to walked towards them.

A young and athletically built man, with shaggy silver blonde hair. His eyes were shadowed by black tribal paint that worked its way down to his neck one single stripe either side. His eyes were fixed on the Dragonborn as he stepped closer.  
“That’s close enough!” Casavir growled, making the man halted his steps a few feet away from them, his eyes still fixed on her.

“Cael.” She smiled softly and took a step forward. Casavir watched in disbelief as she stepped out from beside him and was walking straight into harm’s way.  
“It is good to see you again, My sparrow.” The young Forsworn said as he drew closer.

 _Sparrow?!_ Casavir grimaced. In one quick movement he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other clasping the back of her neck.

“My lady!” He exclaimed, lunging forward and reaching out to pull her back to safety. She suddenly moved out of reach as the man pulled her away and was now pointing a bone toothed sword at Casavir’s throat.  
“I see you have a new companion. What happened to the dark one?” He asked in his soft wispy voice.

Casavir gritted his teeth as he stood still glaring at the Forsworn scum. Cael’s question was answered when their attention was suddenly brought to two arrows that came dangerously close to the Forsworn’s boot. They all looked up to see Bishop perched on a boulder not far off the camp.

“Ah, I see.” The Forsworn chuckled as he shook his head. Casavir took his chance while the man was distracted and bashed the sword away with his gauntlet and his elbow; making painful contact with Cael’s face to force him to stumble back.  
“Cas, no!” She jumped in front of him to stop further violence. Casavir quickly grabbed her round her waist and backed away from Cael as his men notched their arrows towards the Paladin. He released her the moment he saw them aim their arrows in his direction, he would not allow his actions harm her.  
“Casavir, its ok. He’s a friend.” She explained trying to calm the situation. “Cael, this is Casavir, Paladin of the nine. Casavir, Meet chief Cael. He’s a friend of mine.” She stood between them, her eyes looked at Casavir’s neck where Cael’s blade had nicked at his throat, leaving a trickle of fresh blood.  
“A friend?!” Casavir exclaimed, his bewildered expression stared at her as she smiled reassuringly she place her middle and index fingers against the wound and using her restoration skills to seal it. Casavir flinched away a little as the warm energy flowed from her into him, she had caught him completely off guard as his mind had been focused on protecting her from this savage.

“Your companion is much quicker than he appears.” Cael smiled giving his men the signal to lower their weapons with one hand and wiping the blood from his nose with the other.

“Cael. It is good to see you, but why are you here?” She asked as she turned to Cael once she was done with her healing spell. Cael smiled dreamily at the Dragonborn before replying.

“Lovely sparrow, It has been many moons since we last saw each other. My hunters gave word that you had entered the Reach and I just had to come see you.” Cael replied with his soft whispering voice as he dared take another step forward. Casavir gripped the hilt of his blade with white knuckles. He didn’t like that smile, there was something behind it. She heard a timbering growl come from behind her and as the Forsworn took a step closer, so did Casavir.  
“Casavir Please. It’s alright.” She pleaded with him. She knew he meant well, he was protecting her just like he had promised and she would not chastise him for that. It was nice having someone to watch over her, but right now she needed calm.

After what felt like hours Casavir slowly lowered his sword and rested the point into the dirt as his hand held the pommel. “Thank you.” She whispered.  
“I apologise for my friends misgiven trust.” She began but Cael smiled and raised his hand in aid to beg her to speak no more.

“It’s understandable. We Forsworn are barbaric beasts to most folk.” He replied calmly. She smiled with a gentle nod, thankful for his understanding.

“Dragonslayer, You still have not visited my village. Please, come stay with us for the night? It is much safer there than out in the open.” Cael asked as he took her hands in his. She could almost feel Casavir still bristling behind her.  
She stared up into his blue eyes as they twinkled with the afternoon sun, they were a darker shade of blue than Casavir’s. Where Cael’s resembled saphires, Casavir’s were blue crystal with a distinctive slither of silver in them. Her thought came back to their discussion. Was it wise to go to his village with her companions? What if the Ranger started trouble? Or Casavir lost control again? She looked down at Cael’s hands that held her’s so gently as his thumb stroked her hands.

“I need to be sure that no harm will come to us.” She said after deep consideration.

Cael smiled from ear to ear as he softly released his hands from hers. He took a step back and withdrew a dagger from the small of his back and sliced into his palm, she suddenly felt Casavir’s presence draw closer as the blade was revealed.

“I give you my word, Dragonborn. You and your companions shall be welcomed into my village, you will be safe from any harm. I will strike down anyone who dares harm you, or your friends.” Cael smiled, raising his hand allowing the blood to drip to the dirt.  
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Bishop grumbled as he barged past Casavir who was grounded to the spot in shock. _We’re going to his camp?!_ Casavir thought.

“Listen here you hagraven humping prick! Do you take us for fools?” Bishop snarled as he stood inches from Cael’s face.

“I see your tongue is as sharp as the last time we met, dark one.” Cael smiled, seeming completely oblivious to Bishop’s hostility.

“If you think she’s going to your camp then you can think again! She’s going nowhere with you.” Bishop spat.

“Bishop, don’t you start!” She snapped as she pulled him back.

“Cael give me a moment please.” She said. He nodded and backed away, leaving her alone with the Ranger and the Paladin.  
“What are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” She growled behind her teeth.

“Trying to look out for you since you’re too retarded to see the danger.” Bishop snapped.

“He’s offering us a place to stay and he’s given his word that he means us no harm.” She scowled.

“His word.” Bishop scoffed. “His word means fuck all to me, ladyship.”

“Look, he owes me – us. For helping him escape Markarth. He’s just taken a blood oath that no harm will come to us.” She tried to defend her case.

“Yeah, he’ll show how grateful he is when he’s craving into your chest for your heart for some sick ritual.” He retorted.

“I’m afraid I agree with Bishop.” Casavir stepped it. Surprised in himself that he was sticking up for the Ranger. She looked over at Casavir and then at the Ranger, surprised herself that they were actually both agreeing with something for once.

“Look, I know it’s a little risky. But he just gave me a blood oath – those things are sacred. Plus, his village will be a lot safer than here.” She stated. She watched Bishop’s expression turn darker as his amber eyes glowed with rage.

“Whatever. You go then! But you’re a fool if you think I’m coming with you.” Bishop snapped angrily as he began to walk away.

“Wh- wha?… You’re leaving?” She questioned as he whistled to Karnwyr who was struggling with the decision on who to stay with but after an angry shout from the ranger he decided to follow his brother.

“Bishop wait!” She called but he didn’t stop and kept walking off into the hills. “Bishop!” Her heart sank as she watched him walk away. It was sad to think they had just got back together only to lose one another again over a place to rest their heads for the night.

“My lady?” Casavir’s deep voice made her look round at him, her heart began to feel heavy when she saw him.

“You going to leave too?” She asked disheartened.

“Of course not.” He replied kindly. “Only if you wish me to.”

“Well I told you that, at High Hrothgar. Look how that turned out.” She scoffed a nervous laugh as she sniffled, her lashes wet with moisture of building tears.

“Those were under different circumstances my lady. I’m with you, whatever you decide. I will follow my lady.” He said softly into her eyes, taking her hand and holding it in his. She smiled as she felt some to the weight bogging down her heart lift as if took it away with a simple touch of his hand.

“Thank you Cas, Shall we go then?” She gave a weak smile and grabbed her fur bag a few feet away. Casavir bowed his head and placed the sword on his back his hand now resting on the dagger on his hip.

“Lead on my lady.”

_________________________________  
It was evening when they arrived at Cael’s village. The view was beautiful from the village, the cloudless sky was pink and orange as the sun waved goodbye from over the hillen peeks.

They were gawked at from all directions as they rode into the village. Caels village was full of life. Children were running around, playing games and helping their families. It was strange, normally Skyrimian’s would be preparing to end a day of hard work but here they were acting as though they were just starting the morning.  
They rode their horses alongside Cael’s Elk, Yakul, who guided them to the village.

“I can’t believe you ride an Elk!” she smiled as she dismounted Allie and gave her another apple. She flashed her eyes up at casavir who was frowning at her hands holding the apple.

“Where your people ride horses we can tame the wild beasts.” Cael smiled serenely as he removed the reins from his Elk, allowing him to walk away to graze.

“Can you ride a sabre cat?” Sharis asked. Cael laughed at her question but she was genuinely curious.

“I have not tried to tame one.” Cael said with a smile.

“It would be interesting.” She thought aloud. Cael took her by the hand and guided her towards the village.  
Cael showed her pretty much everything. Where they grow their crops, where they sleep, where they make the weapons and where they train their youngsters in hunting and all the things they will need to survive. She could tell by the way he spoke how much he loved his settlement. They were followed throughout their little tour. She wasn’t sure whether it was because the Dragonborn had come to the village or whether it was the tall Breton in his steel armour that was attracting them.

Cael had proclaimed there to be a celebration to welcome the Dragonborn to the village and had a spare hut prepared for them as he showed them around.

Their hut wasn’t anything special, but she liked it, it was cosy. Large enough for two, and tall enough for them to crouch inside. She suppressed a giggle when she thought of all the awkward positions Casavir would have to perform while somewhat preserving his dignity and putting on his armour. The view from their hut was incredible! Positioned just right to watch the sun finally settling over the hills as the night crept in.

She climbed inside and laid back on her bedroll, the natural wild fragrances burst into the air and filled her senses, straw, earth, grass and wildflowers. The hut was fully furnished with straw and furs softening the ground and an animal sack at the bottom for their supplies, along with a glass jar filled with fireflies.  
“You coming in?” She asked, pulling herself upright and looking out to Casavir who stood awkwardly outside. He finally moved from his statuesque stance and removed his sword from his back. He held it in one hand and crouched down to climb in, sitting on the fur bedroll opposite her.

“You seem tense.” She stated the obvious after several moments of silence, with only the sound of the villagers outside.

“Forgive me, My mind has been elsewhere.” He replied.

“You ok?” She asked peering over at him in his uncomfortable silence, he nodded.  
“My lady?” Casavir finally spoke making her feel so much better. She looked up at him though his eyes avoided hers, still staring down at something on the ground.

“My lady, although it pains to admit it. I do mostly agree with the Ranger, I worry about this Chief’s true intentions.” Casavir said his eyes filled with anxious disposition as they finally looked up at her.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I… I’m not sure. I know I do not trust this man, and I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He spoke, lowering his tone as to keep the conversation with in the tent.

“…Looks at me?” She repeated, a smirk crept slowly on her face when she remembered how Bishop had stated he didn’t like the way Casavir looked at her. It was comical to see the same thing repeating itself.

“Why, Casavir. Anyone would think you were jealous.” She teased feeling her cheeks blush a deep red as such flattery.  
_Pack it in will ya!_ She scolded herself as she looked up at saw Casavir’s entire face turn bright red.

“M-my lady! It is not jealousy. I… I only wish you express my concern.” He blabbered aimlessly.

“Oh Casavir, I’m sorry, I was only joking.” She tried to calm it. “Look, if they wanted us dead, they would have already done it already.” She reassured him. “Cael and I are friends. He would never hurt me.” She reassure him, resting her hand on his shoulder. Casavir nodded and let out a deep sigh.

“Very well my lady. I shall try to keep an open mind.”  
“Good! Now, I don’t know about you – but I’m hungry. Are you coming?” She asked as she proceeded to crawl out of the tent. Casavir nodded and followed shortly after as she waited patiently outside. She smiled warmly as they walked together towards the giant bonfire that the villagers had built in celebration.

The feast had already begun; she could see all the tribe sat around the fire, eating food and making merry. People laughing and people dancing around to the music being played.  
When Cael said a great celebration, he wasn’t exaggerating! She was welcomed with open arms by a group of women she had met during the day and they guided her over to a seat on fur skins facing the giant bonfire.

Many of the tribe stared at the Paladin as he walked beside her. They seemed wary of him – and for good reason. He was well skilled in battle and if any dared cross him she worried for their safety.

They sat down together and were offered food and drink all night which she happily tucked into, but Casavir was skeptical. He did not trust what he was being given. If this was a trap of some sort then he had to be on alert, he vowed to protect her and that is what he would do.  
The night went on fully into the night and the moon rose high in the autumn sky. The drink flowed like water and not a scrap of food was wasted.

Casavir glanced over at his lady. She was having such a good time, He had remained grounded to his seat on the furs while she had wandered over to a group of women who were braiding her hair and painting her face.

The light of the bonfire made her glow as the beautiful beaming smile gave him a flutter in his stomach. He quickly swatted away the butterflies in his abdomen as he looked down at the food on his plate.

He was hungry, the food looked so tasty. The meat looked succulent and soft and the potatoes were still piping hot with goats cheese in slices beside it. No, he had to remain focused. He would suffice with some dried meat and some berries from his satchel when he returned to the tent.  
“Paladin.” A small squeaky voice was brought to his attention.

A small boy was stood in front of him drinking from an old mead bottle.

“….Hello…?” Casavir said questionably. The little boy smiled and handed Casavir the bottle he had been drinking from and watched him. The Paladin stared at the bottle then back up at the little boy. He knew the little boy was waiting for him to take a sip and Casavir was struggling with the choice. Does he take a sip and risk being poisoned? or turn down the young child’s offer and risk being considered an insult?  
He was a child, a small young boy barely seen his second winter. Curiosity sparkled in the child’s eyes as he gazed at the Paladin, taking in all his metal glory. Casavir reminded himself this child was a Forsworn, yes the boy was young, but he would not be small for long. One day he would be a trained killer. He had heard stories of these Forsworn, he was not sure how far these people would stoop in aid to trap them.  
“Drink.” The little boy squeaked.

“Errr. I-”

“Drink.” The little boy said pushing the bottle to his lips. Casavir pursed his lips tight and pretended to take a sip to satisfy the child as a smile crept to his face.

“Thank you.” Casavir nodded, pretending to swallow and watched as the little boy ran back smiling to his mother who was watching from a distance along with a group of other women who were chattering amongst themselves staring at him.

Sharis was sat with them with a playful smirk on her face. A warm feeling built in his stomach again and he smiled nervously realising it was her who had sent the boy over with the drink. He licked his lower lip where a droplet of the liquid still remained and found it was just water, he looked down as he felt a smile creep its way to his face.  
The night continued on, some of the women took the children off to bed as the night became more vibrant. He sat grounded to the spot and watched her, enjoying herself in their company. She was his entertainment, just watching her sit and laugh and smile. He found great peace in it.

The feeling she gave him, a sense of belonging that filled him when she was by his side. He never thought he’d feel anything like this again – he never wished to feel anything like this again. But this woman… _What’s happening to me?_  
The music suddenly picked up speed and grew louder. Some of the women jumped up to join the dance. Three women jump up and pulled Sharis with them as they escorted her to join in. They had flowered necklaces and painted faces with swirls on cheeks running down their bodies. They began to dance, swaying their hips and their movements riding alongside the beating drums.

The girls threw their flowered necklaces over her and nudged her and encouraged her to mimic their dancing, which she happily obliged. One girl got behind and held her hips.  
The booze swam in veins and made her feel like she was floating. The drums echoed in her mind and her movements felt fluid as she joined in the best she could. Trying to follow the routine around the fire as the tribe cheered. She was enjoying herself. She spun around and saw Casavir’s eyes gawking up at her she beamed the biggest grin she could before skipping off to link arms with a man who had his arm reaching out for her.

She linked her arm around his and he spun her around, she clumsily fell back into him and giggled as he held her steady. As she laughed trying to pull herself back up, the man’s hands wrapped around her waist held her tightly by the waist.  
“You dance so beautifully. My sparrow.” He said softly into her ear. She felt his hands hold her against him. She slowed her dance and felt him mould to her, pressing himself against her as his body urged her to keep going. The drums slowed to what resembled a heartbeat.

 _LUB- DUB, LUB – DUB, LUB – DUB._ She felt his hot breath against her neck as he pulled her close.

 _LUB – DUB, LUB, DUB, LUB – DUB._ His hands held her waist gently as the worked their way down to her hips, a moan escaped her as his lips grazed the nape of her neck ever so gently. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest as she closed her eyes, the whole world was spinning as she savoured the gentle touch that was making her body yearn for more.  
“Cas.” She breathed softly as his silver blue eyes came to her, his lips touched her neck and his hands held her waist. A powerful desire whirled inside her and those soft lips on her neck allowed a gasp to escape her.  
Suddenly there was a sharp pull, her eyes flashed open and the starts darted by, the soft masculine mould she had been pressed up against was gone and she was now pressed up against cold steel.

“HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY LADY IN SUCH A MANNER!” Casavir’s voice boomed like thunder in her ears and rumbled from polished steel she was still resting against.  
She sluggishly looked up and saw a strong neck with a large adam’s apple, she some reason felt the desire to kiss it but it was too far up. Her eyes looked further and discovered his strong jaw line with a five o’clock shadow, full expressive lips and silvery blue eyes that glared ahead.

 _Cas?_ She thought as she suddenly came running back to her senses; to what was going on around her.  
“YOUR lady?” Cael’s spoke sounding surprised yet sarcastic. The music stopped completely as his tribe watched intently at the two men arguing before them. She heard a growl rumble against the steel she was pressed against.

“You ever touch her like that again and I’ll have your head on a pike!” Casavir growled pulling her firmly and securely against him.  
She could hear people whispering around them, she looked around at some of the villagers,  noticing many of the tribesmen brandishing knives as Casavir threatened their chief.

“Cas?” She tried to catch his attention but he was too engrossed in throwing death threats at the Chief to hear her.

She began to panic, worrying for her Paladin’s safety. She couldn’t fight them, she was their guest, they both were their guests. Cael had promised their safety but would he keep to his word when Casavir had threatened him. She had to think fast, something that would get his attention and out of harm’s way.  
_Forgive me,_ she thought.


	12. The Reach

Casavir stood completely stunned; a stinging pain throbbed in his cheek. She had abruptly pushed herself free from him and struck him hard across the face.

He turned to look down at her after the force had jolted his face to the side. 

“M- my lady…?” He stammered, his hand touched the pricking sting in his cheek. 

“Get out of my face Casavir. Now.” She said coldly; her voice threatening to scream. 

He opened his mouth again to speak but Sharis cut him off. “Go back to the hut and stay there. Just leave me alone!” 

Casavir stared at her, shock and pain in his eyes. Then remorse. She had to look away, masking her face with frustration and rage, she looked away to the crackling bonfire.

“Yes, my lady.” He bowed his head and left her stood there breathing deeply through her flared nostrils, trying so hard to push away the image of his expression on his face. The whispers and mumbling of voices came from all around as they made a parting for the shamed Paladin to pass and walk back to the row of huts with his tail between his legs. 

 

_ Oh, Cas. _ She sighed deeply still trying to hold a frustrated expression on her face. She could have dealt with the situation better but her impulsive nature set in this being the only option. What else could she have done? They were ready to gut him, throw him into the fire pit or flay him alive. She would not have let anything happen to her Paladin, but bloodshed was not an option. 

 

“My Sparrow, I'm sorry if I have offended you.” Cael said softly as he came closer, taking her hand in his. Her eyes stared down at his hands wrapped around hers, her hand still stung from the impact with Casavir’s lovely face. She felt sick to her core as the event played over and over in her mind. She couldn't believe she had done that to him. He had stood by her side, remained loyal to her throughout; and that was how she showed her gratitude?

_ I'm so sorry Cas.  _ She blinked away the sting of tears that suddenly threatened to flow. 

“Come. Let's go somewhere private.” Cael whispered, leading Sharis away from the bonfire as his people tried to continue their feast. 

The only place she wanted to go was to chase after her Paladin. Her body screamed to her to run after him and wrap her arms around him, to kiss his cheek better like he was a child who had scuffed himself while playing. But now was not the time; it would be too soon. Casavir was a grown man and was capable to dealing with this blunder. Right now she needed to smooth things out with Cael.

“I’m sorry about Casavir.” She said. “He’s a good man. He’s just very protective. We… we’ve endured a great deal together…”

 

Cael did not reply as he kept walking guiding her towards the vast grassland, passing some of his men who were on watch. 

“Would you like to go for a ride?” He asked, his voice like a soft spring breeze. Sharis Stared blankly at him, bemused by his response. She was trying apologies for Casavir's outburst; and he was asking if she wanted to go for a ride? He gazed her patiently waiting for her reply which for some unknown reason, she nodded. 

Cael pursed his lips and let out a long whistle that heightened it's pitch at the end. They waited a few moments till they heard hooves and saw Yakul galloping over at great speed. 

Cael smiled at her and guided her to his Elk. He turned her to face him, his blue eyes fixed on her as he lifted her up onto Yakul’s back. She got herself comfortable while he mounted behind her. Her heart skipped a beat when his brushed against hers as she gripped the reins. 

 

“Are you ready?” He said softly in her ear. She blushed and gripped the reins tighter as she remembered their heated moment around the bonfire. 

His lips touching her neck, his hands caressing her waist. The sparks of desire that burnt inside her from his touch. But she - in that moment, for some mundane reason had thought it was Casavir!  _ Why in Gods name did I think it was Casavir?! What was that about? _

“Hold on tight.” Cael instructed and within seconds Yakul was prancing off into the night. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_ You fool, Casavir! You bloody fool! _

 

Casavir marched himself back to the hut with his head hung, staring at the dirt. He wanted to run but somehow it didn't seem appropriate.

He ducked his head down as he entered the small hut and knelt on his knees. Laying his sword and gauntlets out in front of him then clumsily fiddling with the fastenings of his cuirass. 

 

The sting in his cheek was nothing compared to the pain residing within him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as shame lay like a rock in his chest; he’d done it again. He promised he would keep an open mind, to never embarrass her again. But that… that… the sight that met him when he looked up - that uncouth, insolent BOY groping her! …He just saw red. 

After having her cry on his shoulder that night because of another uncouth fool that dared put their filthy hands on her, he had impetuously ran to protect her. 

 

That night she had appeared in his room still echoed in his memory. How she had come to him for his cloak only to break down and take solace in his embrace. It still infuriated him how all he could do was hold her tight as the underlying pain attacked her from within. He promised to protect her, but he could not protect her from herself… from what she was feeling. His sword was useless in such a battle. All he could do was sit and hold her, listening to her soft whimpers and sobs.

He never wanted to see her like that again… EVER. 

Not like he could ever guarantee that. After all, she may be sending him packing after this…  _ Oh Gods…  _

 

_ Perhaps I should just leave now…? _

_ Don't be a fool. You swore your sword to her cause.  _

_ I failed her. I broke my promise to her. _

_ That is for her to decide whether you continue on with her, not yours. _

 

He was so confused. What was going on? Why did he feel like this? Why was he so protective over her? 

She was the dragonborn! He'd witnessed her power; the raw, ferocious power she wielded in her spirit and in her abilities. 

If it was a desire to protect her, then why did he feel anger to see another holding her so… Why did he feel frustrated that it was not him.. 

_ No, no I just wish for her safety.  _

_ “… Liar…”  _ A voice resembling his own echoed in his mind. 

 

He sat silently lost in his thoughts for a moment as the voice stunned him.  He couldn't stay here. He let out a frustrated sigh as he gave up on the buckle under his arm, he was too distracted solving the riddles in his head to play with puzzles on his cuirass. 

He needed to clear his mind, he made a swift exit from the hut and lit a torch on his way north of camp where a small beck was seen. The villages livestock congragated in the area soon cleared when he came over and sat himself on a rock looking out at the rolling hills that were glowing in the blue moonlight. 

“Liar?” He questioned himself. 

_ Who was that? _ He sighed, perhaps he was lying to himself.  He had regrettably been enjoying her dancing a little too much...

 

The image of her dancing around the bonfire came to him. The way her hips swayed to the beating drums and the tribe singing some choral chants, her clothing showing no mercy as they clung to all the right places of her figure. 

Her body moved so gracefully as she tried to keep up with her dance partners. He had looked away for a mere minute to compose himself after her smile stunned him.

When she had smiled down at him it was the last straw that nearly made him jump up and pull her into his arms again, but he would not have sufficed with just holding her. 

He was shocked at the realisation that he would have infact kissed her. It frightened him how just a mere glance had caused such an powerful desire. Then it hit him… Was he trying to protect her? Or was it something else? 

_ Am I jealous?  _

_ Is that was this is?... Jealousy? _ Was that why he felt so enraged by witnessing such a display of affection? Surely not, she was pure and good and…

 

But when he had looked back up, the moment he saw that boy touch her. Something inside him growled, clawed and gnawed at him from the inside. Burning  fire in his veins that shot crackling rage to every nerve ending his body that hungered to tear the young chieftain apart. 

Next thing he knew, he was on his feet and had her clutched against him. It took all his will power to refrain from throttling the insolent savage. 

 

“Argh” He growled pushing his palms into his face to cover his eyes until he could see sparks. He was so confused. He can't feel like this again. He promised himself he wouldn't. Hadn't his heart been through enough? Had it not learnt it's lesson!...? 

 

_ What’s happening to me?! Have I let my heart cloud my judgment again?  _

_ I am her companion, her sword; and nothing more. There can't be any feeling of affection… I… I  _

He thought to himself as he quickly wiped away the tears that had ran down his cheeks. 

_ … I can’t…. _

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Yakul was fast and graceful, not like the large bulky horses; not like Allie.Still she liked her large bulky horse Casavir had bought her. 

She enjoyed the ride, the night sky was lit with many colours and the views on the hill tops were breathtaking looking out into the Reach and beyond. 

They finally stopped on a hill peek, looking out onto Markarth, the great dwarven city. 

 

“Are you feeling in better spirits, dragon slayer?” He asked warmly.

"A little.” She nodded looking out into the incredible view. 

“Yet you're still worrying about your companion. The… Paladin… Yes?” He asked in a curious concerned tone. 

“Is it obvious?” She breathed a nervous laugh. 

Cael nodded with a soft grunt. “Very.”

 

She sighed heavily, she had enjoyed the ride on the speedy, graceful beast. But her mind was still plagued with her Paladin. “Casavir is very loyal to me” She began. “He's good friend and I wouldn't be here without him. He just finds it difficult trust people.” 

“People like me.” Cael added matter of factly. Before she could say a word Cael continued. "Your friend has good reason to be wary of us. Afterall. We are the Forsworn.” He dismounted his elk and assisted her when she climbed off.

 

“He protects you well. His boldness at the bonfire was admirable. Stupid, but admirable.” Cael shrugged as he removed the fur pelt from around his shoulders and laid it on the ground, his lean physique with rippling muscles on display. She would have once been impressed and would have probably blushed at this display; but it did nothing to her now. 

 

“So… You're not mad?” She questioned with a puzzled expression.

“More disheartened than anything.” He sighed sitting beside her and looking out into the vast hills. She stared blankly at him for a while, her mind ticking over, analysing his words. He looked over at her when her response never came and gave her a charming smile. 

 

“Why did you bring me here?” She finally asked when her mind cautiously settled on a conclusion. 

“I had hoped - that if I brought you here, I could somehow convince you to stay.” Cael confessed as he breathed a nervous laugh.

“To stay? Wh- why?”

“As you know, my sparrow. I am ruling a village alone.” He began, turning himself to face her. “Usually. The leader of a clan will pick a mate to rule with him.” 

Sharis nodded, her suspicions were knitting together slowly. The realisation kicked in halfway through the second dip of her nod, her eyes snapped to her hands when Cael once again placed them in his.

“Surely you must know by now, sweet sparrow. You are the only one I desire.” 

_ Oh for the love of Mara.  _ She suppressed a long sigh. 

Really not what she wanted to hear at this moment in time. There was too much on her plate already, she really didn't have time for this. 

 

“Look Cael. I'm flattered bu-”

“I know. I know. It was a long fruitless shot. I see that now. I could never win your heart, because it has already been won.”

 

Sharis sat with her face dropped of emotion as her mind ticked on. Cael looked at her with a calm placidity to him. 

_ What's he saying?  _

_ Belongs to another?  _

_ Does he mean?  _

_ Oh God did he hear?! _

She suddenly felt the blood rush to her face as her mouth began to open and close without a single word being uttered. Cael’s smile broadened as he began to laugh.

 

“You care a great deal for him; and your Paladin loves you dearly. He displayed it very vibrantly tonight. To risk his own safety to protect you...” 

“Love?! Ha! Oh, no. Casavir is a Paladin, his vows restrict him from romantic relations.” Sharis blurted loudly. The thought of Casavir having such feelings for her was making her all giddy. Cael raised a perplexed brow confused by her response. 

“His vows…?…”

“Casavir is sworn to uphold his oath. To defend the helpless and uphold the weak. He can't give in to worldly temptations.”

 

“That doesn't make sense… why would yours Gods want to exclude him from one of life's greatest blessings?”

This had her stumped, her eyes flickering through her thoughts for an answer, but nothing came to mind. She had wondered the same thing many times herself. 

Casavir was undoubtedly loyal to the Gods and to his order. He would pray every dusk and dawn. She remembered the time he welcomed her to sit with him through his silent prayers. 

 

_ She sat watching him intently playing with the cheese wheel she had just purchased. Curiosity once again got the better of her as she shuffled in front of him.  _

_ “My lady. What are you doing?" Casavir asked, his eyes remained shut.  _

_ “You sit so straight when you pray, I’m testing whether you can balance this cheese wheel on your head.” She mused, her voice dripped with mirth.  _

_ He was so calm and collected with her. She wondered how he managed to keep such patience with her and her erratic mind.  _

_ “My lady, I do not wish to have my hair smell of cheese.” He sighed. Still remaining still as stone.  _

_ “It won't. Just ignore me, keep doing what you're doing.” She giggled. He gave a subtle reluctant grunt and allowed her to continue. She giggled proud of herself as she slowly removed her supporting hands from the cheese.  _

 

_ “Oh hail, the cheesy Paladin!" She laughed at the view in front of her. Casavir opened one eye to flash her a reprehending glance before shutting it again and tilting his head, making the cheese fall off and roll away.  _

_ “Nooo! My cheese!” She yelped scampering after it on all fours. “Caaas!" She exclaimed once she caught it and looked back at her Paladin. The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a pleased grin.  _

 

Even though he would try to hide behind his cool, calm exterior. She could always  sense a sort of sadness in those steel blue eyes. Why would his order demand him to avoid such a connection? To deprive him of being able to hold someone, to bond to another. Mara is the Goddess of compassion and love, why would she condemn a devout worshipper to such a lonely existence?

 

“I’m not accustomed to his beliefs of his order. He’s a very reserved man when it comes to such pious matters.” 

“It is obvious you stir such feelings within him. Whether he likes it or not.” Cael replies. 

“Oh no, no. We're just friends.” She answered. Her own words made her heart thud painfully in her chest.  _ Ouch, what was that? _ She thought her eyes downcast. Why did it hurt to think of Casavir as just a friend? What did it mean? 

“A friend who is undoubtedly devoted to you.” Cael sniggered. “He loves you. Many men avoid expressing matters of the heart but we forsworn speak of it freely.”

 

“How do you know?” She asked curiously. 

“Us men are an odd species. Especially the type who spend their lives behind stone walls and societies expectations. But we all share an understanding. He was angered by my forwardness with you. I could see it in his eyes. His claim on you. Then, and when we came to you. My blade could have sliced his throat there and then; but it did not matter to him. All he saw was you.” Cael said softly. She remembered how his eyes had been fixed on her, how he had whacked Cael’s sword out of the way as an attempt to pull her to safety, how his actions almost cost him his life at that moment - but Casavir’s seemed oblivious to it. 

“I don’t want him to get hurt because of me.” She replied. The last thing she wanted was to be stood over Casavir as he bled out in front of her. The thought put a painful knot in her gut. 

“I can’t promise you it won't come to that, Sparrow. His loyalty is strong with you, but his determination to guard you may lead to his demise.” 

“Don’t say that!” She snapped leaving Cael to look at her with curious apprehension. 

“Casavir is my friend! I will not allow any harm to come to him because of me.” She growled. 

“I didn’t mean-” 

“Too many people have died because of me. Casavir will not be one of them.” She retorted, her voice cracking as she held back a sob. Cael didn't reply for a while, he let her take long steady breaths and brashly wipe her watery eyes.  

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I'm sorry.” He placed a hand gently on her back. It wasn't as comforting as Casavir’s embrace but it was at least comforting.  

 

“Your path is a dangerous one. And your allies care greatly for you. Even the dark one has not left your side. He is watching us - even now.” Cael replied looking serenely out into the distance. 

“What?” 

“He has been following us ever since we departed for my village. He poses no threat to us so we have let him follow.” 

“How do you know he's out there?”

“Have you realised you can still hear birds chirping?”

“...Yes?” 

“Those Birds are telling me exactly where he is and what he is doing.” 

She stared blankly at him. He grinned and leant in close to her ear. 

“... Oh…” She looked up and out into the rolling reach hills, Bishop was watching over her even now?  _ Figures,  _  she smiled. 

“Cael. Thank you very much for the ride but I think it's time I return to Casavir.”

Cael gave her a nod and whistled to Yakul who was grazing close by, they mounted once again and headed back to camp.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Once back at the village Sharis thanked Cael and went straight to the hut. Her footsteps were apprehensive, all the time she had been with Cael she had pined for her Paladin, now she was afraid. 

_ What if he wishes to leave?  _

_ I did hit him.  _

The knot in her stomach tightened at the thought of him leaving her service, she wiped her sweaty palms on her trousers and knocked on the bone frame of the hut. 

 

“Casavir, it’s me. Can I come in?” She waited for a reply but none came. “Cas?” She called again, pulling the leather curtain aside as she peered into the tent. It was empty; with the dim glow of the fireflies, she could make out that the hut was vacant. 

_ Where is he? I told him to come back here.  _ Different scenarios began to run through her head.  _ He’s gone to pray? No he could do that in the tent.  _

_ He's gone to relieve himself? Possibly.  _

_ He’s left my service?! No, he wouldn’t do that. Would he? No _ . 

One  scenario came to her, that one scenario that made her blood turn to ice water at the thought. He had threatened the chief… many of Cael’s men would be angered by this and no doubtedly wanted his head.  _ Had they taken my Casavir?! Or was Cael in on this too? Was that why he wanted to take her for a ride?!  _

 

“CAS!” She called out in panic looking around for any sign of him.

“CASAVIR!” She called out again. Now worry began to set in, it engulfed her as she stood lost and confused, frantically scouring her thoughts for her next move.  

_ Cael. _ Snarled taking off into a sprint.  _ I swear to Gods if they've-. _

She turned the corner at top speed only to collide into something hard and metal, causing her to grind to an abrupt and painful halt. The force of the crash into whatever the hells it was knocked the wind out of her. She felt the crunch of her nose as her face would without a doubt leave an imprint. After the momentum of her charging run slammed her full force into it she bounce back, dazed and disorientated. There was a high pitched ringing in her ears and the world was spinning around her. 

 

“My Lady!” Casavir gasped as he pulled her steady before she fell back. “Good Gods! Wh- what? Are you alright?!” 

She looked up in an languid manner, her eyes veiled by her droopy lids as his flint blue eyes met hers, full of worry. It was Casavir, the hard metal thing was Casavir.

“Cas?” She smiled. “You’re alright.” 

“My lady, you’re bleeding.” Casavir stated as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it to her nose. She winched as the sharp pain shot through her face. 

 

“Please, sit here.” He said supporting her as she walked over to a rock close by. She sat herself down and he knelt in front of her, his tall frame was at perfect level with her now she was seated. 

“Let me take a look.” His voice was comforting yet slightly authoritative as his hands replaced her’s that were now holding the tissue. After a few moments she began to come back round to reality. He was safe, safe and sound right in front of her. She felt a bubbling embarrassment inside her as she had thought Cael had cooked up a plan to separate them and to capture the Paladin.  _ I suppose me and Casavir aren't so different after all. _

 

“Where were you? I shouted for you. Why didn’t you reply? When I got no reply I - ouch!” She flinched away when he attempted to remove the tissue. It was broken, she knew it was broken. He broke her nose. 

“That really, fucking hurts.” She hissed through gritted teeth, no longer able to use her nose as a thick metallic tasting liquid trickled down the back of her throat. 

“I’m sorry, please try to be still.” He said as he removed the cotton cloth and raised his hands to her face, a glowing warm light emitted from them.

“I did hear your call. I came running the moment I heard you.” Casavir added when his restoration magic began to knit her broken nose back together. 

 

The pain vanished, just a comforting warmth that filled her. She was rather stunned by the strength of his restoration magic, perhaps it felt different because it wasn’t herself performing the spell; but his healing magic was powerful and always left her rather stunned. 

She then realised that she was staring again, staring straight into his blue eyes as they scoured her face, she loved how he would slightly suck in his lower lip when he was concentrating. She often teased him for this and he would try so hard to refrain from doing it, but she loved it. She loved her Paladin, her dear friend. 

 

“How does it feel?” He asked, his eyes avoiding hers as he realised she was staring at him. 

“Better, Thanks.” She croaked quietly. Awkwardly looking down as she touched her mended nose. A perfect job as always. 

“I am glad to hear.” He nodded a reply and left an awkward silence between them, she looked at her Paladin waiting desperately for him to look at her, but his eyes were more entertained by something invisible on the floor.

She felt awful for lashing out at him like that. It was obvious she had wounded him… not just physically. Her worries piled on her, she didn't want him to leave, but with what she had done she could understand it if he did. 

 

“I'm sorry.” She said huskily.

“No, no. I should have replied rather than just running over.” He replied. 

“Not that, I mean that.” She gestured to the red bruise in the shape of a hand on his face. “I shouldn't of lashed out like that. It was wrong of me, you were only trying to protect me.” 

“My lady, I deserve this mark. I shamed you in front of our hosts and insulted them beyond measure.” His voice full of guilt as his eyes did not meet hers. 

“No, Casavir, you didn’t deserve it.” 

“I must respectfully disagree with you. I overstepped myself.” He replied. Why was he hurting himself for doing his duty, to protect her. 

She may not have been in danger, but he didn't know that - and neither did she. He was on edge here, and he was only trying to keep her safe. Her conversation with Cael was fresh in her mind, she looked down at his large hands, one playing nervously with the handkerchief while the other was balled up into a fist.  _ My Cas... _

 

Casavir kept his head low but saw her hand glow with a yellow light as she raised her hand and gently placed upon his red raw cheek. The warmness of his cheek was so welcoming on her cold hands. His smooth yet rugged cheek sent tingles all over.

“I couldn't let them hurt you, Cas. It was all I could think of at the time.” She said softly. He felt her restoration skills working on the tender area, her energy flowed gently into him, if he hadn't been kneeling already he would have involuntarily ended there as her touch made him feel weak - yet in a way, stronger. His heart swelled painfully at her kind touch. He wanted to hold her hand and press his face into her palm, but a part of him retreated from such desire. 

 

She felt him go rigid at her touch but he did not push away, she was thankful. It gave her hope that he may still be a chance he would stay with her on this perilous journey. 

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me, Casavir…?” Her voice so soft and comforting pleaded with him. Forgive? What was there to forgive? There was nothing.

“My lady, I cannot accept an apology where one is not needed.” His response made her smile, she let her thumb stroke along his strong defined cheekbone. 

“Well. Perhaps… we could agree to disagree?” She bit her lip nervously trying to return a glimmer of humour. He chuckled briefly as he nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”

 

“Oh Cas. What would I do without you?” She asked aloud, relieved the awkward tension was lifting. But before he could reply, she added. “My silly, brave Casavir.” She giggled. 

The words she spoke made him look up, her eyes sparkled with the night sky as she gazed at him. Her beauty caught him off guard, her hair tied back still in the long braid with flowers pinned in, her ears came to small subtle points, rare to see in Breton anatomy but it wasn't unheard of. Her full wide lips pulled tight into a doting and beautiful smile.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, a part of him wish to reach out and hold her again, give into his desires and cross the line he had avoided all these years.

 

“My lady I need to speak with you.” His voice urgent. She stared at him puzzled at first and then nodded, removing her hand from his face and shuffling on the stone to get comfortable. She would have moved up for him to sit too if there had been room. “I’m listening.” 

 

Casavir nodded his eyes downcast, the awkward silence return for a brief moment before he spoke. 

“My lady. I - I.. am loyal to you. Do not doubt this. But there are times when I find my duty comes second, and I do not wish for my feelings to put you in danger.”

He glanced up and saw her expression, he could not tell if she was confused or insulted. 

“I  don’t understand… Your duty comes second?” She shook her head baffled by his words. 

“Please my lady. I do not mean insult by this, you are more than capable. It’s just…. I see to your safety before attending to the matters that affect us all; and I worry others may suffer because of this.” She sat silent for a moment before speaking, she looked up to his expression of discomfort. 

“Then why? Why are you doing this?” She asked. 

“I am not sure, My lady, it is.. Difficult to follow you. Again, I mean no offense by saying this! There is without any doubt much to admire about you. I find your actions inspiring, as a leader should be.”

 

“Oh Cas, I’m not a leader.” She laughed nervously, Rolling her eyes. 

“You are. I follow you, and you alone.” Sharis was silent, she had never thought of it that way.

“My lady, you must understand. I find it difficult to focus solely on our objective. I worry for your safety above all and… in turn. It worries me how easily I wander from my duty to you.” 

He looked as confused by his own words as she was with them. 

 

_ “Your Paladin loves you dearly. He displayed it very vibrantly tonight. To risk his own safety to protect you...”  _ Her conversation with Cael came back to her. His words rung in her mind as if an epiphany was taking place.

“Casavir?” She asked, her eyes looking down at his hands as they still fiddled nervously at his sides. “Cas, are you - trying tell me you have. Feelings for me… ?” She asked, her heart thumped in her chest. The anticipation for his reply was agonising. 

“I… I wish to protect you. Yes.” He said hesitantly. “I did not wish to speak of this, but telling you has settled my mind. Thank you.”

 

_ Protect. He wishes to protect me…. _ She thought, she suddenly felt deflated yet she tried not to let it show. It was still very reassuring that she had someone to watch her back, someone she could trust. 

“Thank you Casavir. I am honoured that you feel so strongly about protecting me, just stop trying to get yourself killed in the process.” She jested, attempting to make him smile. 

“I shall try.” He nodded. “I must apologise to the chief for my inappropriate actions tonight. I shall escort you back to the hut first.” 

“Wh- wha? Oh no that's alright.” She stuttered. Her mind still pondering on their conversation and baffled by his sudden shaded aura. 

“Very well.” With that he stood up and bowed his head to her, she in return impetuously mimicked his nod and watched him walk away towards the larger huts further up the hill. 

She sat disorientated by Casavir’s strange, detached behaviour. His words were sweet but his energy somehow felt shielded. She could almost see him building up the stone walls that she had worked so hard to take down. 

Perhaps she had been too frivolous, after all - he was a virtuous man, in every sense of the word. Had she crossed the border between Casavir and his duty. Had she embarrassed him so much that he now held a grudge? Oh, she hoped not! He was too modest to admit it if it were so, but he was forever true so surely he would have expressed such honesty to her. She sighed loudly in an attempt to relieve herself of the heavy weight residing within her. She rose from her seat and began to slowly plod back to the hut, she needed to sleep. Too much excitement for one day, she thought.

 


	13. Possession

They travelled alongside Cael and a small party of Forsworn hunters he banded together to assist the Dragonborn on her journey to Sky Haven Temple. Their travel was somewhat quieter than she was used to. Their was something off with the Paladin, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was an uncomfortable feeling that left her walking on eggshells.

That morning, he had woken up early – same old abrupt start. Laid there in his bed roll for a while just staring up at the roof of their hut. The moment she stirred, pretending to just be waking herself, he got up and took himself and his armour outside. It was strange, they had spoken briefly since the events that unfolded at the feast, but he seemed guarded now, everything was so professional and regimental. His whole attitude seemed to have changed in an instant. He was returning to his guarded self, she could feel it and in this – she felt hurt. She didn’t want to push her luck and upset him further. But she didn’t want to see their friendship, everything she had done to wean him out of his hard shell go to waist. She decided to reel in her animated fun loving side, maybe she needed to start again, perhaps that’s what it needed. To rebuild the foundations.

“My lady?” A voice suddenly interrupted her trail of deep thought and brought her hurtling down to reality. She flailed about for a brief moment before spinning on her heel to see Casavir stood right behind her.

“WHA – woah. You startle me!” She clutched her chest to catch her rapidly beating heart.

“Forgive me, it was not my intention.” He replied. Where once he would’ve given a polite smile or even fought an amused smirk, there was nothing. Just a cold serious expression upon his face.

“No, it’s fine. Just uhh… what were you saying?” She replied. A little hurt by his cold response.

“I may be mistaken in my observations, but I do believe I’ve just spotted Delphine along the road.” He nodded looking out to where two people were travelling on foot. A woman, dressed in leather armour with dirty blonde hair tied back and a man, wearing nothing more than normal clothes clutching to his cloak as he traveled alongside her.

“Oh good! I was wondering where they were.” Sharis smiled as she turned to head down the hill. “C’mon Casavir. Let’s go and meet up with them.” She replied. He nodded and followed after her as she headed to Cael who was also walking over to her.  
“Lovely sparrow, this is as far as I can take you. There’s a Forsworn settlement at the foot of the ancient Temple. The tribe is ruled by a briarheart. He and I do not see eye to eye so our presence would not be a good one and would most likely start a war.” Cael sighed, taking her hand in his.

“That’s OK, I’m grateful you brought me this far. Thank you.” She smiled.

“The temple is just north of here, follow the river upstream, it shall take you there.” Cael replied. “I’m sorry I can’t come with you. But we can’t start wars amongst ourselves. I know you’ll be safe, your companion guards you well.” Cael looked up and gave Casavir a nod of approval.

“Don’t worry. We can handle ourselves.” She beamed confidently looking over her shoulder at Casavir who averted his eyes from her and bowed his head. Once again hurt by his response, her attention was suddenly brought to a hand placed on her shoulder. She turned round to meet Cael’s sapphire blue eyes looking at her.  
“You will always have a friend in the Reach. You and your holy warrior.” He said warmly gazing into her eyes. His hand lifted to touch her face, his hands were strong yet delicate, youthful yet weathered. His thumb stroked her cheek softly as he smiled at her.

“Until we meet again, Dragonslayer.” Cael smiled, a sigh escaped his lips as he let go of her cheek and backed away. She smiled and turned to head down the hill. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the Paladin, staring at the ground, his jaw tightly clenched as he gripped his belt tightly. She ignored this and headed down the steep slope to Delphine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
It felt good to see them again. It felt like so much had happened since they parted in Riverwood. They found a small group of rocks to sit and rest for a while since Esbern was understandably complaining about his aches and pains from the endless days travelling on foot. They sat and talked for a while, sharing a bread roll and a bottle of mead.

“Esbern, why don’t you wait here while we go and scout ahead? We’ll come back for you the moment it’s clear.” Delphine was determined to get this all over and done with yet was empathetic to her old friend.

“Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I’m helpless, girl.” Esbern frowned. “All I ask is a moment to rest my bloody feet and you’re mothering me.”

Sharis giggled at the two friends as they argued amongst themselves, she found it rather amusing to see Delphine cornered. Stammering and struggling to pull herself out of verbal firing range of her old friend. She turned to Casavir to see whether he shared her amusement, he was staring at the piece of bread in his hands. His face clouded, as though he was in deep discussion with himself.  
“Cas?” She murmured holding out the bottle for him. He blinked himself out of his trail of thought and looked over at her, his expression still one of deep thought.

“Oh, no I’m alright thank you.” He held his hand up and rejected the bottle with a kind smile that flashed briefly across his face. She was loosing her patience with this sour atmosphere. It wasn’t just her that was sensing it either. She could see Delphine glancing over at him curiously and then looking over at Sharis like she was going to explain.  It was at that moment, when she was about to finally question him. There was a howl rising on the wind. She stood and listened intently to the sound. It was close, very close. She felt her heart dance with joy. She’d recognise that howl from anywhere.

The warm rays of light from the sun were obstructed from her as she turned her head to see Casavir had stood up and was looking at something behind Delphine. Delphine quickly jumped to her feet and readied herself for battle when she saw Casavir’s frown and his eyes locked onto something behind her.

There, in the shadows of an old juniper tree, stood a familiar figure. Dark leather armour from neck to toe, his copper hair ruffled and his golden predatory eyes staring at the group.  
“I wondered when you would show up again.” Sharis smirked. Happy to see him. Her smile broadened when she saw the black mess of fur come bounding over towards her. “Karnwyr!” She squealed happily.

“I can’t let you have all the fun princess.” Bishop sniggered, coming into the light, his lour expression honed in one the Paladin, almost looked for a weak link to fire his venomous remark at.

“How’s your face, Paladin?” Bishop asked. “Princess may be a little, but she can pack a punch, eh?” Casavir didn’t respond, he just stood returning the disdainful glare he was receiving.  
“Why are you here Bishop, I though left?” Sharis asked when she detected the dense atmosphere between the two.

“Well ladyship. While you’ve been happily dancing around campfires and riding Elks. I took the time to scout ahead to Sky Haven Temple. I’m sure Blondie told you there’s a Forsworn settlement there. Lucky for you I found a way in.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
So there she stood. After sneaking her way past Forsworn guards and solving the ancient puzzles the temple presented, they were left stood looking up to a giant stone face sculpted into the wall.  
“This must be the entrance.” Esbern’s voice echoed along with every other sound that fell in the room. He held up his torch to looked around in awe of the ancient stonework. “If my sources are correct, then it only opens with blood. Your blood.” Esbern said turning to Sharis.

“I hope not all of it.” Sharis grimaced, pulling out her mother’s dagger from her boot.

She walked over to where Esbern pointed to a circle carved into the floor in the centre of the room. Taking a deep breath, she held the blade against her palm for a moment. She couldn’t bring her arm to move as it froze in place. It was difficult to intentionally cut herself.  
“You done it yet?” Bishop said, getting impatient.

“Gimme a minute.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“Will you shut up!” Casavir snapped at Bishop.

“Watch it Paladin.”

“Both of you. Shut up!” Sharis snapped looking over at them. Casavir looked down at the ground while Bishop just sniggered.  
She took a deep breath slowly glided the knife across her hand, the thick crimson liquid pooled in her palm until she tilted her hand and allowed it to drip on the engraved spiraling circle. There was a distant rumbling beneath their feet, it moved across the the room beneath them and toward the face, the stone face tilted inwards to reveal a hidden pathway leading further into the ruins. She smiled proudly to herself while wrapping her handkerchief around her hand. She was about to use her restoration skills until she saw Casavir’s hand take hers very gently. The warm soothing light flowed from his hand to hers and she felt the tickling sensation of the cut knitting together.  
“Thank you, Casavir.” She said softly hoping he would lift his head to look at her. He glanced up to look at her and nodded. Her heart was already racing from the unexpected touch but the speckled golden light dancing in his flint blue eyes made her smile. She looked down at her hand and removed the fabric to see her wound was gone, a small pink mark remained, which was slowly disappearing the longer she looked at it.

“Oi, princess C’mon!” Bishop yelled from across the room.

“Yeah, yeah.” She groaned. “Come along Cas.”

“Yes my lady.” He replied following after her.  
Finally reaching the ancient blades halls once again very well preserved. No human had set foot in these halls for hundreds of years. It was amazing, a sense of nostalgia filled her when she thought of how these halls must have looked back in their golden years.

“Ah, there it is. Alduin’s wall.” Esbern exclaimed joyfully as he pointed to the top. Where a frieze over looked a long stone table in the centre of the hall. She followed Esbern who was bounding over to the ancient artwork, the most lively she had ever seen him. She followed after him gazing up at it in awe. It was so impressive to look upon, it told the story of Alduin from the beginning of time up to the prophecy.

After Esbern scouted the wall giving everyone the story and the prophecy told. Sharis felt mixed emotions standing before the walk looking at the stone carved depiction of the last dragonborn. Power, importance, insecure, afraid. _Why does it have to be me?_ She thought to herself.  
“Do you know a shout that can bring a dragon from the sky?” Delphine asked, pulling Sharis away from her thoughts.

“No, no I don’t.” She tried to concentrate on the conversation. Her thoughts kept wandering, she heard Greybeards. _What about them?_ She glanced over at Casavir who was stood by the wall, his head was low again, a glazed expression over his face.

“I was hoping to avoid getting them involved but we have no choice now.” Delphine said with a grim expression. The cave fell silent without a word spoken between them. Until Bishop broke the silence.  
“And here I thought we had seen the last of those old bastards.” She looked over her shoulder to Bishop, some reason she lost the spark to argue with him. She just shrugged and looked back up at the stone wall, the stone dragon’s eyes stared coldly at her. Was it her imagination or did that thing blink? The more she looked at it she was convinced it was staring back at her. It eyes slowly turning red and a rumbling growl echoed through her mind.  
“My lady?” A familiar voice rescued her before she screamed with the madness. She turned to see Casavir stood beside her looking with a concerned expression.

“Y, Yeah?” She stammered.

“Lady Delphine has informed us that the sleeping quarters are still in good condition. We could rest here for the night, set off early dawn?” Casavir suggested, his eyes scoured her very briefly, she knew he detected the worry in her.

“Yeah, ok.” She nodded. Walking towards Esbern who was following after Delphine.

She did not move from her temporary bed. She welcomed Karnwyr up to sleep beside her and ran her hand through his thick fur, he smelt of earth and grass. She didn’t sleep much that night but the beating of Karnwyr’s heart was comforting as she rested against his chest.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Days of travel finally led them back to the small village of Ivarstead. Her stomach was doing somersaults, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at the path leading up the mountain to the Greybeards.

She looked over at her three companions. Bishop was striding through the town like he owned the world, Karnwyr went bounding over to greet a dog he saw playing by the stream and Casavir, was looking right at her. He gave her a weak smile and reached out his hand as if asking for the reins to her horse. She handed him them with a nod and quickly averted her eyes from him, leaving him to settle the horses at the stables.  
“Why so quiet ladyship? Not like you to be so mute.” Bishop nudged her shoulder as she watched Karnwyr playing in the water.

“Just thinking.” She replied flatly.

“About?”

“Them.” She finally brought herself to look up at the mountain where the clouds blanketed the peak. Bishop did not respond straight away, her answer seemed to silence him but he still stood by her side.

“Princess. Don’t worry about the Greybeards. It was me and the Paladin that caused the trouble.”

“I know that! But what if they won’t even let me step foot inside because of your doing?!” She groaned.

“Will you calm down. They’re mad at us, not you!” Bishop growled at her, his golden eyes burnt fiercely at her.

“There he is!” A young girl’s voice shouted. Sharis turned to see a group of children running over to Casavir. He smiled serenely at them as they surrounded him.

“You have to come quick, she needs your help.” The girl pulled on his arm. He frowned for brief moment in confusion as she pulled him along.

“Help who?”

“My sister, she’s sick… please, you have to help her.” She pulled again with her brother. He knew which girl they were speaking of. The young girl with the emerald eyes, the chubby small hands that pinched his cheeks came back to him. _She was sick?_

“Take me to her.” Casavir nodded and followed the children to the wooden hut by the stream. A man paced back and forth outside the house wiping tears from his bloodshot eyes.  
“Papa!” The son called and ran to the man. “He’s here.”

“Bren, what do you mean?” The man looked up and paused when he saw Casavir walking over.

“By the Gods. You’re real?! I- I thought the children were just telling tales but-”

“The children say you are in need of my assistance.” Casavir spoke.

“Yes, it’s fleur. My youngest, she’s sick. I’ve tried to get a cleric to come see her but I dont have the gold. She’s so weak. Please… shes only three.” He pleaded with Casavir.

“May I see her?”

“Yes! Please help my little girl.” He blubbed in relief opening the door for Casavir.  
The man guided Casavir into a small room with three beds, one with a small child in sleeping. A mother cradling her as she slept, tears falling from her mother’s eyes. She looked up and pained a smile, eyes full of hope when she saw the Paladin.

“She hasn’t stopped talking about you.” She said holding back her sobs. “Please, help my baby.”

Casavir immediately walked over and knelt by the bed looking down at the youngster. So small and frail. She was incredibly gaunt and pale, her cheekbones emphasized by her dramatic weight loss. Not how he remembered her in the slightest.

“How long has she been this way?” He asked as he removed his gauntlets.

“About a week now, she just complained of a feeling tired.” The father said. The little girl began to stir when she heard Casavir’s distinctive voice, she slowly open her eyes and whimpered in pain and looked up at her mother. Then she saw Casavir.  
“Hello again.” He smiled softly.

“You’re back.” She said with a soft hoarse voice. Her wonderful green eyes looked hopeful and happy to see him again, dark rings around her eyes with her white palette.

“Of course, my lady. I see you’re not well.” Her lips curled up into a sweet smile as she reached out for his hands. So small and delicate against his own.

“Are you going to make me better?” She asked. He nodded with a soft smile.

“Yes. Now, Close your eyes.” He said softly as his hands began to glow with a warm comforting light. He placed a hand on her head with his thumb pressed between her brows, his other rested on her abdomen. He instructed the mother to move away so his restoration magic wouldn’t pass through to her and would focus solely on the child. The warm soothing energy entered her body making her breath a sigh of relief as the pain began to ebb away. But something didn’t feel right, normally when he used his restoration skills it wouldn’t leave him feeling so drained and weak. He closed his eyes and began to pray along with his healing.  
_Akatosh, I ask for the strength to save this young soul. Arkay, I plead you to spare this girl. Mara, allow the love for this child to guide and heal her from th-._ His eyes flashed open and the healing stopped.

“Mama.” She cried as they pain returned to her.

“What happened? Why did you stop?” The father asked. Casavir stood and turned to the father his face etched with concern.

“Might I have a word.” He said, even though it was a request it sounded more like a command. The father slowly nodded and they both left the room, the children were sat quietly together by the fire with Sharis sat with them.  
“Whats going on?” The father asked, following close to Casavir.

“Perhaps we could speak away from young ears.” Casavir suggested, again with the commanding tone.

“Bren, Tia, Go play outside.” The father ordered them. With puzzled expressions they nodded and went outside looking curiously at the Paladin. Sharis looked at her companion, his poker face expression looked rather pained and concerned.

“Well, what happened?” The father asked.

“She is not sick, it’s something else.” Casavir said rubbing the back of his neck.

“What do you mean?” The father asked looking panicked. Sharis stood up and walked over to join in the conversation.

“When I was praying over her, I saw something, I felt it’s presence. Something dark, evil has latched onto your daughter.”

“What?!” The father looked horrified. “You can help her right?!”

Casavir nodded, “It’ll be difficult, quite possibly painful for her. This demon has its talons dug deep, it’s feeding off her life force.”

“What are you going to do?” The father asked.

Casavir turned to Sharis with a steady expression. “My lady, do you have a soul gem on your person?”

“Always.”

“Very good. I will be in need of it, and your help, if you are willing..?” She screwed her nose up and scoffed. Of course she was going to help, she could see in his eyes his heart was set on this for some reason.

“Of course I’ll help.” She replied, she could already see he had a real soft spot when it came to children.

 

They all turned to the door as blood curdling screams came from the little girls room.

“Fleur!” The father burst into the room along with Casavir. The mother was holding her, desperately trying to comfort her.

“Fleur, what’s wrong? Please, calm yourself.” Her mother cried. The little girl was screaming til her face tinged with a greyish pink, her eyes bulged staring at something that wasn’t there.

“THE MAN! HE’S IN MY HEAD! MAMMA! PAPA! HELP ME! MAMMA!” She screamed, crying in pure terror for her life.  
“Take your wife and leave the room. Quickly!” Casavir ordered.

“Cas, what do we do?” Sharis asked, slightly panicked by the child’s screaming.

“It knows I’m here. My lady, the soul gem?”

“I got it.” Sharis pulled out a grand soul gem from her satchel as Casavir replaced the mother’s hands with his own.

“Fleur, don’t worry I won’t let it hurt you.” Casavir said soothing her, the little girl’s eyes snapped at him. Her emerald eyes darkened to pure black and spread to her entire eyeball. Her screams deepened and twisted as her voice changed into something unworldly.

“You can’t save her Paladin! She’s mine!” A dark disembodied voice came from the little girl. Her body was hot like the flames of oblivion.

“Sharis, I need you!” Casavir called to her as she ran to the other side. That had to be the first time he had called her by her name.

“Place the gem on her chest, hurry now.” She did so and he grabbed her hand and placed it on the little girl’s head. Her heart skipped a beat from the sudden touch, _this isn’t the time, Sharis._  
“Say these words with me.” Casavir instructed looking deeply into her eyes. “Vilakna, porcel makran dorce.”

He began to chant the words and Sharis started to join in. His hand on top of hers over the child as she thrashed around clawing at their hands, she could see why Casavir had placed his hands on top of hers when she witnessed the child’s small weak hands dig deeply into his, leaving bleeding welts.

An almighty scream came from the child, so louder she felt her ears pop and the sound disorientated her, she winched with gritted teeth and she pushed on chanting with him. She continued to scream, drifting from demonic screams to the little girl crying out for her mother.

Still they chanted on until the child fell silent. A red smoke rose from the little girl’s lips and was absorbed into the soul gem as the child eyes drifted open just enough to make out the blackness in her eyes was gone and they had returned back to the original shade. Her eyes opened and stared ahead at the ceiling above her, glazed and lifeless. The soul gem resting on her chest cracked, shattered and then turned to dust within moments. She laid on the bed motionless, a worried feeling flooded them both as they look at one another.

“No.” Casavir breathed as he checked for breathing. Nothing.

“Is she..?” Sharis started and paused. Casavir looked up at her with a worried, determined look. The door opened again and her worried parents walked into the room, when they saw her, the mother began to well up in tears.

“Fleur.” She sobbed.

Casavir’s hands emitted the same glowing gold light as he began to pray out loud. Chanting new words over and over again, beads of sweat glistened on his brow as he gave all his strength and energy to bringing the little girl back. Sharis began to repeat the words with, combining their strengths to bring her back from Soverngarde’s gates.

“C’mon little flower.” Her father begged.

Moments turned into minutes and still nothing. Sharis glanced up at Casavir who was still praying, his brows knitted together, sweat now dripped from his head and his cheeks shone with fresh fallen tears.

“Cas…?” Sharis said softly. She reached over and wiped a fresh tear from his cheek. His undivided attention was on the little girl, he didn’t flinch from her touch, nor did her look up. His word was his vow. He told her he would not let that demon hurt her. He couldn’t lose her, he wouldn’t!  
Sharis was about to grab his shoulders and shake him from his trance like state until her caught glimpse of something around the child’s neck. A necklace, black steel with an engraved symbol in the centre and three red gems evenly spaced away from one another around the marking. Was it just her eyes, or were those stones glowing? She’d never seen anything like it before but something felt very wrong about it, she instinctively reached down and ripped the necklace from around the little girl’s neck. As she did the young girl’s eyes fluttered and she gasped aloud first breath.  
“Easy now, you’re safe.” Sharis soothed the little girl, her emerald eyes shot around the room and settled on her mother and Father who in unison let out a whimpering sigh of relief.

“Fleur!” The mother flew to her child and scooped her up into a loving embrace. Casavir stood and walked out of the room, allowing her parents to hold their daughter again. Sharis smiled and followed after Casavir who was stood by the hearth, wiping his face with a cloth, his breath labored.

“You OK?” She asked placing a hand on his arm, he nodded. Shying his face from her. She looked down at the lacerations on his hands where the child’s fingers dug deep and tore into his skin.

“I’m fine.” He nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“It was a pleasure. Now, give me your hands.” She slipped round to face him and took his large hands in hers. His magic was spent, he’d given nearly all his energy in aid of helping the possessed girl. Sharis however, her magic still lingered in her blood. She smiled softly and allowed what restoration skill she had flow into his hands.

Sharis smiled as she watched her skills seal the wounds. His large calloused hands, weathered and scarred from life and battles gone by. After moments of silence she peered up through her lashes and was met with his blue eyes gazing at her. They didn’t speak for a while, both locked in one another’s stare, then Casavir parted his lips ready to speak.

“My lady, I…”  
“Thank you. Thank you so much! Mighty stendarr be praised. We can’t thank you enough!” The father bounded over to the two. Sharis sadly stepped away from Casavir and released his hands as the father blubbered happily.

“It’s what he does.” Sharis smiled, patting Casavir on the shoulder. The man smiled, overwhelmed with emotion he reached out to pulled Casavir into a strong hug.

“We are in your debt. Thank you. Both of you. If there is anything you need…”  
There was a loud sharp knocking which made them all jump and turn to the door. The father went to open the door; a tall Nord stood in the doorway, blonde hair shaved from his head and his long beard tied into a ponytail.

“What’s going on? Is everything alright? It sounds like Oblivion’s gates in there!” The man exclaimed, his hand gripping the wooden handle of his axe with white knuckles.

“Klimmek! She’s alright. Fleur. The Paladin, he saved her!” The father announced loud enough for all the people stood outside to hear.

“He? She’s well again? Ha! That’s good to hear friend.” Klimmek smiled, welcoming his friend into an embrace as the father welled up with tears again.  
“We shall leave you some time to celebrate with your family.” Casavir bowed his head as he headed for the door.

“Thank you so much, we won’t forget the kindness you have shown today. Here, take this. It’s the least I can do.” The father smiled happily, pulling a rather sorry excuse for a coin pouch from his belt.

“Simply knowing that she is in good health is enough repayment.” Casavir replied refusing to coin. The man beamed another smile as he sniffled back more tears.  Casavir nodded and left the hut, waiting on the porch for Sharis.

 

“Well, that was interesting.” Sharis said as they headed for the inn. Casavir grunted with a nod to agree and followed alongside her. The locals stopped in the street, some clapped, some cheered to him while others just smiled. He was a hero, the village would not soon forget of the kind deed he had performed on this day.

“Forgive my discourtesy today, I hope I did not offend you when I spoke so sharply.” Casavir stopped at the porch on the inn.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” She smiled, batting away his comment with the swish of her hand.

“Thank you.” He bowed his head. She was about to head inside until his large form was suddenly inches away as he reached for the door. “My lady? I noticed you pulled the amulet from the girl’s neck.” Sharis nodded, remembering the pendent that now weighed in her pelt pocket.

“I am grateful you too noticed it’s presence and that you was able to remove it in time. When we are away from prying eyes, I would very much like have a closer inspection.” Casavir asked with the same authoritative tone in his voice.

“Sure thing Cas, but first. I think we are in need of a hot meal and a hot bath.” She patted his shoulder and stepped through the door the Paladin was holding open.  
“About time! Where have you been ladyship?” Bishop said, scowling and giving Casavir a look over.

“Just helping Casavir save a young girl from having her life sucked out of her.” Sharis shrugged, snatching the bottle out of his hands and taking a swig. Bishop grinned and folded his arms.  
“So! Tomorrow we head to High Hrothgar.” She gulped down the liquid. “And when we get there, I want you both to apologize for your behavior… understand?”

“Yes my lady.”

“Why? That was probably the most excitement those old farts have seen in a long time. We should do it again… what do you say Paladin?” Bishop said menacingly.

“You seem to have forgotten my warning Bishop.” Casavir said sternly.

“I mean it Bishop, no more fighting. If you ever touch him again you’ll have me to answer to.” Sharis snapped.

“You’re really going to stick up for your Paladin? C’mon princess he doesn’t need your protection.”

She smirked, “I know he doesn’t, that’s why if you ever feel the need to ‘Do it again.’ I give him full permission to break that pretty face of yours.”  
And with that she went to the innkeeper to ask for some water for her bath. Bishop sat on a chair and put his feet on the table. “Whatever.” He mumbled into his tanker giving Casavir a evil glare. Casavir squinted at Bishop and walked over to sit at the bar and order himself a drink from the bar maid.  
He lifted the mug of tea to his lips and smirked, the thought that he had her full consent to strike out was somewhat comforting.

 _Thank you, my lady,_ he thought.


	14. One too many

She wove her damp locks into a long braid, attempting to do it the same way the women in Cael’s camp had styled it. She tried her best, but after so many times of tangling her fingers in her own hair she just gave up and simply allowed it to stay as it fell. She had just washed all her clothes and loaned a blue cotton dress from a bar maid Lynly. Sharis wasn’t used to dresses. The last time she wore a dress was at the ball, before that was when she was a young teen, aged twelve she guessed wildly. She slipped on the leather sandals she had in her bag. They were the sandals Casavir had bought her to wear under her dress for the ball. She smiled remembering that magical night. Who’d of thought she would have ever attended such an event? Or that she would ever be here? Labelled as the mighty Dragonborn!

She sighed to herself as she emerged from her room, the inn was lively enough, for a small tavern residing in a quaint little town. Casavir was sat at the bar staring into his mug while Bishop was sat in the shadowed corner of the inn. The only thing giving away his hiding place was Karnwyr who came galloping over as soon as he saw her. Oh she loved that wolf.

Casavir looked over when he heard her familiar and heartwarming giggle float into the room. He almost choked on his tea when he saw her. _Oh wow,_ he thought. She looked so beautiful in blue. Her radiant smile glowed as she looked down at the large black beast as it tried to jump at her. He felt his heart flutter as he admired her beauty.

  
“Well, don’t you look tasty in commoner clothes.” Bishop came sauntering over, licking his lips as he too admired her beauty.

“I’m always wearing commoner clothes Bish.” She tutted, giving Bishop a playful smirk as she headed for the space at the bar next to the blushing Paladin.

“Yeah, but your normal attire always hides away all your best assets.” Bishop chortled.

“Bishop, go for a bath will ya!”

“I will, if you come with me. I’ll even let you scrub my back…?” He cooed in her ear by her exposed neck, his hands reaching out for her hips. Casavir jumped up and pushed Bishop away before they made contact.

“Keep your hands off her, Ranger.” He snapped with his deep booming voice. Again taking action without thinking. He hated Bishop’s forward and bold approaches, the way he would put his grubby hands on her. And yet, in a way, he envied it.

“What? You want a bite of her sweet roll? Ah, I see, I see.” He sneered at Casavir. He knew to what Bishop was referring and it angered him to the point he almost lunged for the Ranger’s throat. “Why you insolent-”

“Cas.” Sharis gently clanged an empty tanker onto his chest plate. The piercing sound was enough to distract him for a moment, allowing him to reel in his bubbling temper.

“Why must you guys always fight?” She sighed leaning on the bar waiting for Lynly to serve her. Casavir didn’t answer verbally, instead he hung his head. Yet Bishop being the challenging one just smirked.

“So who’s going for their bath next?” She asked.

“I will.” Bishop sniggered. “Don’t want to get in the water after the ‘his holiness’ has been in.” Bishop teased as he went into the wash room with a loud obnoxious laugh.

“Honestly. You two are like an old married couple.” Sharis sighed sipping on her mead.

“Please forgive my impertinence, my lady.” Casavir replied remaining more polite than usual. “However. You understand my distaste for the Ranger.”

She eyed him for a moment, wondering why he refused to look up at her. What’s going on? Why was he acting so strange? She shrugged it off with annoyance beginning to rise. “He’s not always like that.” She replied.

Casavir nodded, he had to agree. Bishop had always possessed a sharp tongue and quick wit, but he had displayed some forms of tenderness in his life. Bishop’s life was a difficult one, his family wasn’t exactly the perfect role models and his sibling weren’t much to look up to either. If anything Bishop was the best one out of them all!

Casavir followed her to a table she was heading to and pulled a chair out for her, she smiled thankfully and sat down. She poured her mead into a clean tanker on the table and nestled back in her seat as Casavir brought her some stew and a bread roll.

“Thanks.” She said as she took the bowl from him. She sat thumbing the rim of the bowl with her hands. It was niggling at her now, she could feel the frustration nipping at her with biting her tongue. What was going on inside that Paladin’s mind? It was becoming too much to bear. She took a mouthful of the stew before her mouth grew a mind of it’s own.

“So.” She gulped the stew down. “You wanted to see the necklace yes?” She asked, taking a bite of bread after dipping it in her stew.

He nodded. “Yes please.” He held out his hand and watched with complete disarray as she put her bowl down and pulled the necklace from between her breasts, placing  it in his hands. He gulped hard, feeling the once cold metal of the jewelry was now tepid from the comfort of her bosom.  
He mustered all his focus solely on the necklace placed in his hands. It felt strange in his hands. Something faint was eliminating from this item, something dark. He was certain this was the cause of the poor child’s sudden illness. Not just because of her quick recovery once it was removed, but the dark seated aura that lingered within. He could almost hear the faint whispering and hisses coming from it.

“There is an evil enchantment on this pendent.” He muttered loud enough for her ears only. His large hand closed around it and he muttered a few words. His fist began to glow a glorious blue as his prayer danced off his lips. There was a loud crack, like the breaking of a glass, he opened his fisted hand to reveal the stoned gems had shattered and the metal bent and crumpled like coal and black powder pooled in his hand.

“What is that?” She asked curiously peering down into his palm.

“It’s what is left of the curse that was bestowed upon this object.” He replied. Placing the amulet on a handkerchief rolled up on the table and wrapping it inside.

“This item was cursed, I will need to speak to the family about how their little girl became the owner of such an object.” He said, stuffing it inside his side pouch.

“Is it safe now?” She asked curiously.

“It’s safe now I assure you. I have cleansed the amulet of it’s evil enchantment.” She nodded with a proud tight lip smile, before turning back to her stew.

“What I’m wondering is, how did she get her hands on this?” She asked herself.

“That is what I wish to found out. Of course… If you would allow me to pursue this matter, my lady.” He asked again ever so politely.

“Of course, as soon as we get back from High Hrothgar we’ll investigate this.”

“Thank you, my lady” He bowed his head thankfully and looking to the heath. His strong chiseled features were emphasized by the flames light dancing upon them. He had been so adamant on saving the little girl, she had to admit, she had lost hope when she saw the little girl’s eyes grow vacant. Fear filled her when she heard the contorted unworldly voices boom from such a small thing. Yet Casavir had remained strong and endured, her eyes looked down at his hands, wearing fresh pink scars where the child’s fingers had clawed their way into his flesh.  
“You did good today.” She smiled, a sense of pride washed over her. Such a brave and noble warrior, and he was by her side.

“Thank you. I am grateful you were there to assist me.” He bowed again. The corners of his lips twitching upwards as his cheeks darkened a shade.

“That little girl, she means allot to you… why?” Sharis asked. She was no fool, she had seen the fear in his eyes, the determination fill him as he brought her back, the fresh tears falling down his cheek. The way the children spoke of how she hadn’t shut up about her silver knight. He meant something to her, and she meant something to him.

Casavir paused a moment staring at her blankly as he thought of what to say. “Every life is precious, sacred. Especially an innocent.” He replied, making his words work in his favor. How could he tell her that he saw the child as a image of her? That he felt some kind of connection to her as though she was a part of his lady? Silly really…

Sharis nodded and took a sip of her mead. “Did you…? Did you ever want children?” She asked cautiously, she saw his eyes darken with sorrow.

“I will never have children.” He murmured lowly. She paused, a part of her told her to shut up but curiosity took hold with a tight grasp. Perhaps she could ween more out of him?

“Oh… Do they?… give you the snip?”

He looked at her puzzled for a moment.  “Snip?”

“You know… Do they… cut them off?” She explained herself, hiding behind her tanker. He looked at her still confused, then… it was like someone turned the light on.

“Oh, No!.. No! It’s my vow my lady!” He blurted aloud, blushing furiously as he spoke. She blushed too and they both laughed loudly letting out the tense and awkward feeling that sudden arose within them.

It was nice to hear her laugh again, properly. She paused and admired his nervous laugh, deep and thundery… it was wonderful.  
“Well you two look like you’re having fun. Maybe too much?” Bishop came over wearing a cotton shirt and his black tanned leather trousers.

“That was quick Bishop.” Sharis said wiping a joyful tear from her burning cheeks and handing him his mead as he pulled up a chair by her.

“What can I say, I pride myself on speed.” He said with a wink. “Now, your turn Paladin. Go and pray yourself clean.” Bishop said with a grin, pulling her chair towards him. Casavir rolled his eyes and rose from his seat bowing his head to Sharis before he walked off to clean up.  
The water was warm and soothing on his skin, it was cooler but it was still a comfortable temperature. He let out a sigh in relief as he was finally clean, he was no stranger to the dirt. But being a Paladin meant his body was a vessel to the divines and needed to portray a good example at all times. He had to treat it with respect. He changed into a fresh tunic and leather trousers, slipping on a pair of leather shoes he always kept in his bag, headed back upstairs. To his surprise and convenience he walked back to his lady to see the girl’s father was there in a tipsy merry mood. Hugging Sharis chatting away happily to her.  
“There you are Paladin!” He beamed bounding over and wrapping his arms around Casavir giving him a big squeeze.

“Come! I got you all a mug of ale.”

“Ah, that’s very generous of you sir, but I’m afraid I do not drink.” Casavir said as the man walked with him to his seat.

“Sir?!” The man snorted loudly.

“Oh, Paladin.. How rude of you!” Bishop said slinking back into a chair on the shadowed end of the table. “A man buys you a drink to say thanks for saving his daughter’s life, and you dare turn down his kind gesture. What kind of honor is that?” Bishop lectured.

“Sir, I assure you. I mean no insult.” Casavir quickly attempted to correct any wrong he had done by rejecting his offer.

“Oh C’mon Paladin. It’s just one drink.” Bishop whined in the corner. The father nodded and placed the tanker in his hands. Casavir looked down at the tanker filled to the brim with a rich brown liquid. Bishop was right, it was impolite to turn down a kind gesture. Especially after knowing the man probably spent his last coin on it. Casavir brought it close to smell the familiar scent that stung his nostrils.  
“You don’t have to, Casavir.” Sharis said trying to be a voice of reason.

“No, Bishop is right. Thank you sir.” Casavir nodded and toasted with the men and women in the room who watched intently, waiting for the Paladin to take a drink.

Casavir didn’t falter, in four large gulps the entire contents of the tanker was gone. She was surprised yet slightly impressed.

“Wow, you drink like a Nord.” The Father swung his arm around Casavir’s neck and laughed ordering another round.

“Oh no, just one is sufficient.” Casavir hiccuped.

“C’mon Paladin. Just one more!” The man beamed merrily.

“…. Very well. Just one more.” He shivered with the goosebumps that the bitter taste brought.  
It had been a while since had drunk any alcohol, the taste brought back memories from his youth,  the happier times, the days that brought a smile to his face. Going to the tavern with his brothers in arms on their nights off. Drinking as much as they could muster before waking up somewhere they didn’t remember getting to.  
“I’ll get the drinks.” Bishop said as he grinned at Casavir.

“Sir, I wonder if I could trouble you with some questions regarding how  your daughter came to obtaining this necklace?” Casavir asked as he held it out the bundle of cloth. Unwrapping it to show him.

“What? That thing? She said a man gave it her, he was passing through town.”

“When was this?” Sharis asked. The man shrugged.

“A few weeks ago… I guess. But c’mon. Don’t dampen the mood with this. I promise – I will tell you all, if you join me in celebrating tonight.” He said as Bishop handed them their drinks.

“Should you not be celebrating at home with your family?” Sharis quizzed.

“Klimmek dragged me out. I was going to stay but I’m on orders by the Mrs to go out and enjoy myself.” he guffawed.  
The man turned and climbed onto the bar top and raised his tankard in the air.

“I wanna make a toast!” He bellowed, silencing the room. “As you know my little girl, was very sick these days gone. But this man, sent by the gods saved her and brought her back to us. I cannot express how grateful I am to you and your lady.” He said as the inn cheered.

“So Raise your drinks lads and lasses to the Paladin! And his Missis!” He shouted. And they all cheered. Downing their drinks. Except for Casavir, Bishop and Sharis.

 _Missis?_ They thought.

“Come on, drink up!” The father said climbing down from the bar.

“I’m not his wife.” Sharis stated.

“Could have fooled me.” The man laughed slapping Casavir hard on the back.

“His faith keeps them warm at night.” Bishop said slinging an arm around Sharis, as if to claim her.  
“Really?! So… have you even laid with a woman?” The man asked bluntly. Casavir’s eyes snapped from the glare of Bishop and widely shocked to the man.

“I don’t think this conversation is appropriate with a lady present.” Casavir scowled.

“Well, c’mon. Surely you’ve known a woman…?”

He could feel his face burning as he was grounded to the spot. He could feel her presence overwhelming him, she looked away and tried to distract herself. But she was curious, Had he been with women? Or was he a virgin too? Surely not. Not with his dashing good looks and bearing in mind the comment Bishop made when leaving Solitude…

“I will not speak of this.”

“Well I’ll speak for you then.” Bishop grinned. “Yes he has.”

“How da-”

“Ha, go on how old were you?” The man laughed,  urged for more information.

“I will not discuss this matter any further!” Casavir snapped as he chugged down his ale. The ale tasted better this time, perhaps his palate was becoming accustomed to it.

“heh heh.. You’re a tough one.” the man chuckled and waved for another. “I bet you miss a woman’s touch though.”

“Oh he does alright. You haven’t seen the way he-”

“Alright, I’m going to go and tend to my washing.” She interrupted. She wanted to help Casavir out of the sticky situation but he was a grown man and was capable of dealing with this situation. Plus she needed time to think.  
Sharis headed downstairs to collect her clean clothes. They weren’t entirely dry yet but she needed time to herself to pondered on her thoughts. So Casavir wasn’t as innocent as he made out. He had tasted the forbidden fruit, laid with a woman. He had loved another. The thought of him in bed, rolling around the furs with someone was rather an interesting thought. Her chest grew tight and a surge of pain hit her all of a sudden at the thought of him smiling at another woman, kissing her, holding her, doing…. Things with her.

She stood up suddenly beginning to pace back and forth in aid of easing the painful tightness in her chest. Why was she feeling like this? She knew he was not only a Paladin, but he was a man above all that. Her mind was unsettled scattered in disarray,  knowing he had shared his bed with another, for some reason she felt a little betrayed… why<i>?</i>  
She had no claim on him, he was her companion, her friend. Yes he had expressed he wishes to protect her… but what did he mean by that? It still confused her.

He had made no advances that she knew of that could imply he saw her as anything more than a leader. She didn’t even know how she felt about him. She was obviously attracted to him, but she was also attracted to the volatility and roughness of Bishop.  
_Enough of this!_ She slapped her cheeks forcing herself to push aside her consternation from the idea of Casavir being romantically engaged with another. She shouldn’t be feeling this way, he was a Paladin, sworn to an oath. A part of her wished that she had never had that discussion with Cael, it seemed to bring nothing but frustration and false hope.

She grabbed what clothes had finally dried and decided to leave the rest til morning. She threw them over her arm and went to leave the room.  
Upon opening the door she cried out and caught her breath quick as the tall shadowing figure stood before her. It was Casavir, he looked just as shocked as she was. Though he looked different from when she left him. His appearance was disheveled and his cheeks were bright red, his crystal blue eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids were droopy.

“M’lady! Forgiv me, I din’t mean to scare you.” He held his hands up innocently as he swayed back and forth. “I thought you wen to get your clovz?” He raised confused brow, his voice seemed more manually lead than normal, even slower, like he was learning another language.

“I have.” She replied trying to get her heart back to its normal rhythm. Her eyes examining him quizzingly.

“Ah, I waz emm. I thought thiss waz the way ou.” He snorted, his lips peeling back to reveal his pearly white teeth. She stared at him utterly confused, what had happened to him? This wasn’t like him. He never smiled like that. Then it hit her, as she watched him turned and slump against the wall in an inert manner. Trying to pull himself back up the steps.

“Cas, are you drunk?”

“I… ermm. I thin’k I jus need sum air, m’lady.” He mumbled.

All the frustration and disordered emotions crumbled away when she looked at him. She bit her lip to suppress an amused giggle and linked her arm around his, he looked down at her with such a lost expression. _God’s he’s adorable!_

“Let’s get you outside.” She said assisting the big lump back up the stairs. “Don’t pass out ok?”

“I won’t.” He grunted, trying his best to look sober. It was clear he wasn’t. He stood up tall when they reached the top of the stairs and walked in the direction she was leading him. He did his best to remain independent with his balance and maneuvering with a few subtle tugs now and then to keep him focused. She sat him down on a bench outside on the porch before instructing him to stay put until she returned.

 _Bloody hells,  no wonder he doesn’t drink_ , she thought. _Bloody light weight_.  She ran inside to get some tea for him. When she ran out to again he was nowhere to be seen, all that was left was his shoe.

“Cas?” She called. She was answered by a grumbling noise coming from somewhere behind the inn. She followed the sound and found him, sprawled out on the grass with his feet in the stream. He looked up at her and flashed a boyish smiled.  
“Oh Casavir. What are you doing?” She sighed walking over to him.

“I’ve lost ma shoo.” He sang the last word and snorted a laugh, holding up the shoe that he still had. His words were more slurred now the fresh air had hit him.

“Yeah, you left it at the door.” She held up the other one coming to sit beside him. “Damn it Cas. You shouldn’t have drank that ale.” She said sitting him up and handing him the tea. “Both hands Cas.” She said sternly as he weakly reached out for the mug. He nodded slowly as he took the mug with both hands like a babe learning to drink from a cup.

“No, No, m’lady. It waz impropa of me tu turn down hiz kindnuss.” He mumbled into his mug.  
“I left you for what? Ten minutes? And I come back to find you like this.” She replied in a chastising voice. “How many have you had?” He didn’t answer verbally but instead began to count his fingers by wiggling them, still holding his cup. Two, she counted. She giggled and placed a hand on her lightweight’s shoulder to hold him steady when he began to slump back almost throwing his tea down himself.

“Oh you silly man. You’re such a lightweight.” She said, making the drunken Casavir frown.

“Are yu mad at me?” He asked, straining his voice. She shook her head and giggled. If anything she was kind of pleased to see him look more human.

“M’lady?” He paused again before taking another sip of his tea. Looking up at her with his doped eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Can we keep this secret? Pleease?” He grumbled. She knew what he was referring to, Bishop would most likely rip into him about this. Poor Casavir would never hear the end of it. But Bishop having his hunters keen sense, it was most definite he was already aware of Casavir’s intoxication.

“Knowing Bishop, I think he already knows.” She confessed with a soft sigh. Patting Casavir’s broad shoulder.  
Years of wielding his mighty sword and wearing such heavy armour sculpted him to a well toned warrior, she gave his shoulder a cheeky subtle squeeze and felt herself swoon as she relished in the firmness under her fingers. Casavir hid his shamed face in his mug.

In his eyes he was ashamed for being in such a predicament, but in her eyes it was an opportunity to see the real Casavir. Her father always said drink brings out one’s true self. If that was the case then Casavir was a big ball of mush… and she loved it!  
He threw his head back and downed the tea, his torso edging himself to a tilt, about to hit the ground as he caved in under his own weight. She gasped and reached for him with both hands desperately trying to pull him straight.  
Her efforts were pointless as she came down with him. Falling back into the dirt with a grunt on his landing, the empty mug crashed to the ground and rolled away from them.  
She laid atop of him, perfectly still. Both her legs still seated behind her only now her chest was firmly pressed against his.  
Heat rushed through her body but she remained frozen to him. Her heart thudding hard in her chest as she was intoxicated by his warm clean scent, his long steady breaths whispered beside her as his chest rose and fell in rhythm with them. She could feel the heat of his body coursing through his shirt as his strong chest muscles could be felt beneath her. His heart beat pounding hard like a battle drum against her palm.  
“Er, sorry…” She stammered beginning to wake herself from her trance. She started to pull herself up from him and was captured again when their eyes met hit. He gazed at her with such admiration and tenderness she felt her heart skip fall out of rhythm. The glittering stars above and the array of colours in the night sky reflected in his eyes.

She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt him wrap one of his strong arms around her waist. Her fingertips gripped the toned muscles on his shoulders as she stared helplessly into his eyes. They held so much emotion now, no longer shielded. His eyes dilated, their rouge tinge vanished. They seemed to take in every feature of her face, like a blind man seeing the light for the first time.  
She flinched apprehensively as his other hand came to her face, his fingers softly curling a lock of hair behind her ear before resting against her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing against her cheek. She was helpless in his arms, lost in the waves of Casavir. His thumb moved down, tickling her up lip as he ghosted along it and moved further down, gently pressing brushing against her trembling lower lip. Her heart thundered in her chest, his touch electric. His eyes now following his thumbs movement against her lips.  
_Was he tempted? Would he dare?_  
A part of her screamed for him to do it, she wanted him to kiss her. She could see the hankering desire in his eyes. She felt her stomach doing somersaults and her mind crashed as all it could think of was her finally tasting her forbidden fruit. He closed his eyes and she waited for him to pull her in, his large hand moved to the back of her neck as he pulled her towards him. She closed her eyes waiting for the impact, _God’s forgive me for not stopping him._ But had dreamt of him too many times.

She waited with agonizing anticipations for the softness of his lips but instead she felt the fabric of his tunic against her cheek. He was  cradling her head against his chest, she heard the pounding of his heart was as loud as an drums, his face nestled into her loose waves.

“Forgiv me.” She muttered softly. She was rather dazed with what was happening. Her body was enthralled with her emotions,  her desire to kiss him was agonizing but his arms enfolding her were such a comforting feeling. She had missed his comforting embrace. He hadn’t gone anywhere near her since Cael’s village.

She closed her eyes and clung to him, drunk or not she no longer cared. God’s forgive her for taking advantage of this moment to feel he held her in his arms. The cold air entwined with his heat making her realise just how cold she was, she couldn’t help but shiver.

“Ar yu cold?” Casavir whispered tenderly into her hair.

“A little.” She confessed. Shivering some more when the head of his sweet breath flowed through her hair like water. With that, his arms re positioned themselves around her, squeezing her gently into a strong hold. She closed her eyes with as the butterflies in her stomach danced merrily. But then she felt sad, the fact that this was all fantasy, she could never have this with him, it was all fiction, a mirage.  
She pushed gently away from him at give herself space. He released her but looked at her slightly confused and hurt.

“I’ll go get our cloaks.” She murmured clearing her throat.  
“I’ll come wiv yu.” He said gently grabbing her hand and she rose to her feet. She gulped hard as a surge of energy ran through her entire body from his touch.  
“Don’t be silly, I’ll be back in a moment. Get your feet out of the stream before the slaughterfish bite them off.” She teased, hiding the pain in her eyes. He rolled to his side and began to pull himself on his hands and knees as she headed back to the inn.  
She went inside and grabbed her cloak and grabbed his from his room, an awful feeling filled her. Why was she trying to fool herself? _It could never be. He is a Paladin._ She once again pushed it aside, none of that mattered right now, she needed to be Casavir’s babysitter for the night.  
Making her way back outside, lost in her thoughts she bumped into someone who was deliberately stood in her way, his golden orbs staring intimidatingly down at her.

“Where are you going?” Bishop asked, blocking her way to the door.

“Sitting outside.” She replied flatly. She could smell booze strongly on him. He always got too confident, too forward with her when he had too much. Normally she’d just brush him off, but tonight she needed to tend to Casavir

“Where’s the Paladin.” Bishop asked, though his eyes and tone in his voice sounded like they already knew the answer to his question.

“He’s resting.” She replied, attempting to slip past him. Bishop nodded and stroked her cheek backing her up against the wall.

“Wanna keep me company princess?” He said deep and seductively, his nose prodded playfully against hers. Like a wolf sniffing out weakness in it’s prey.  
“Get some rest Ranger. You need to work on your apology to the Greybeards.” She replied. Recoiling from him after Smelling the alcohol thick on his breath.  
“You know, you look so beautiful in this dress, ladyship. Still… I wanna know what surprises are underneath. You can help me work on my apology, and I’ll make it worth your while…?” He purred, his lips dared brush against hers softly then along her cheek and down her neck.  
“Bishop. Go to bed. You’re drunk.” She pushed him away again and headed for the door.  
“Not as drunk as your precious Paladin.” He sniggered loudly. She halted mid step, turning to him as his comment sparked curiosity. She noticed a certain edge to his remark, she frowned when she noticed his eyes, like he was hiding something.  
“Bishop, what. Did you do?” She snarled.  
“I just added a little something to help him loosen up.” Bishop sniggered. Pulling out a small vial of skooma from his pouch.  
“You – You bastard!” She snapped, slapping across the face. Bishop caught her arm before she could bring it back and pulled her into the shadows, pinning her back up against the wall with a playful wicked grin.  
“I just love the fire you ladyship.” Those words were too familiar to what she’d heard once before. She froze as the horrible memories came back to her. “It makes you very irresistible.” She felt him press himself against her.  
“I had hoped it would knock him out for the night, that way you could spend some… alone time with me.” Holding her in place with his weight as his hand reached up and held her chin with his thumb and finger, staring into her eyes with an intense hunger.  
“D’you know how fucking frustrating it is to see that self righteous twat constantly shadowing you.” His snarled, baring his surprisingly pointed canines.  
“You were mine first. I don’t share.”  
“I am no one’s.” He hissed. Rage bubbled up inside her at the sound of her being claimed. She bared her teeth and bit down locking her jaws on his chin. His growl inflamed as his hands gripped her tighter and he pulled away.  
“You will be mine. Tonight.” He growled sternly. Pushed her harder against the wall.  
She felt her heart thud in her chest, those words, those memories were flooding back at once. Her instincts were brewing, ready to fight back with all she had. The only thing stopping her from going feral was knowing it was Bishop, her friend. That’s all he was – a friend…This wasn’t right, his advances felt so wrong, so taboo. But strangely her body was reacting in a way she didn’t expect, it was happening again. She looked away out of shame, her body craved for satisfaction and he was more than willing to give it. She gasped when his mouth suddenly claimed her neck, his teeth gently bit down as his knee parted her legs and pressed against her groin.

A pleasuring heat engulfed her as his touch sent sparks from every touch.  Suddenly Bishop stopped, his beastly chuckle vibrated against the nape of her neck.  
“We have company.” He sniggered. With his words she felt another presence. She turned her face and saw her Paladin stood there, his eyes wide, snapping from Bishop to her. Casavir swallowed hard and bowed his head before marching himself to his room, holding onto pillars to assist him.  
_Casavir? He saw. Oh Gods he saw!_  
“Paladin, another drink!” A man shouted handing him fresh tanker. Casavir took it and placed it on the next table he crossed. Sharis quickly pushed herself free from Bishop and crossed the room trying to keep up with him. He looked so distraught, she felt awful. She watched as he collided himself into his door and vanished from sight. She heard an almighty crash come from his room and the people stood nearby laughed in hysterics.  
“Oh hells.” She sighed when she saw him on the floor by a broken chair and upside down table.

“Casavir, are you ok?” She said as she walked into the room and shut the door to get rid of the idiot drunks. Casavir groaned as he began to stir, turning himself around and rubbed his shoulder. He sighed and slowly looked up at her. His eyes pained and conflicted, he looked so handsome with his face portraying emotion – even if it was a woeful expression.

“Are you alright?” She said again, kneeling down to check him over. He nodded and looked back down at the floor. “C’mon, to bed with you.” She said grabbing his arms to pull him up.

He grunted and helped shift his own weight over to the bed. He sat down with a bump and let his body fall back carelessly as his head hit the wall with another bang.

“Cas! Bloody hells man. Youre such a clutzy drunk!” She exclaimed, trying to joke but he stared up at the ceiling. She stood and looked up to his frozen pose.

“Are you going to get into bed then?”

“…In time.” He replied flatly, still staring at the ceiling. She stood there awkwardly pondering on what to say.

“Cas…?”

“Yes?” He replied.

“What you just saw… it wasn’t… it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It doesn’t matter wha I think.” Casavir replied, his voice returning to his guarded self. It felt like a blunt object had just dug into her chest, a dull ache that made her feel nauseous.

“I’m gonna try sleep this off.” He spoke before she could open her mouth to defend her claim. She wanted to push further, she wanted to stand her ground and defend herself, but it wasn’t much of a fight against a drunk. She nodded her head and placed his cloak back on the chair along with his satchel.

“Goodnight Casavir.” She said with a strained whisper as she swallowed the stone in her throat.

“Sleep well m’lady.” He turned his face away from her as he remained planted to the bed with his feet still placed on the ground.  
She spun on her heel and headed straight for her room, luckily Bishop would leave her alone now.  
She felt disgusted at her body for feeling so good at Bishop’s touch. She didn’t want Bishop. She could never see Bishop in such a carnal manner – even if he was bluntly open about it.

She barged into her room and shut the door behind her. Closing her eyes tightly she tilted her head up in an attempt to reduce her tears which her building in her eyes. She jumped and looked ahead when a noise came from in front of her.Bishop was stood up from the small corner chair in her room. She wouldn’t have noticed him if he hadn’t of moved from his seat. His baggy shirt lace was loosened revealing his well toned pecks.

“What’s with the tears?” Bishop raised his scarred brow, stepping closer towards her.

“Just get out.” She retorted turned to open the door to assist his exit. Bishop stepped forward and pressed against the door to forbid it’s opening. Inches from her now, his golden orbs held her in a smoldering stare, she wasn’t in the mood to fight him. In fact, she wasn’t in the mood for anything.  
“Has he hurt you?” Bishop asked raising his hand to cup her face. She scoffed, insulted by his remark, she turned away.  His breath lingered against her neck as he leant in.

“Let me kiss it better.” He purred before his lips made contact again. This time he was softer, gentle with his movements. Another involuntary gasp left her as the heat returned to her. She didn’t need this! Why was her body responding to him in such a way? She tried to push against him but his athletic toned form pressed harder against her. Her mind was screaming for her to fight back, but her body was refusing to comply as it allowed his hands to wander. She could feel the wetness between her legs as his advances drove her body insane. His hand holding her cheek turned her to face him.

“You’re so beautiful.” His amber eyes burned with sexual desire and then moved their way to her lips, shortly after his lips claimed hers. She was utterly appalled in herself to find her hands reaching out for handfuls of his shirt. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth, disregarding her consent as it found her tongue. He tasted spicy, rich and thick in flavour as his hands became more urgent.

The corset around her waist suddenly loosened and slapped against the floor behind them. The dress suddenly became loose and threatened to fall to the floor. Her hand left Bishop as she quickly clung to her dress desperately. His rough hands ran under her skirt and up her leg as his leg again pushed between hers, forcing them to part.  
“Stop.” She gasped against his lips. Bishop ignored her demand and continued, working his hands towards her inner thighs and towards her wetness.

“Cas stop!” She cried out before his hands could go any further. Bishop froze, his golden eyes boring into her emeralds with a growing anger. There was a long pause as she held his gaze, it slowly occurred to her what she had said; and now it had come to light she suddenly felt exposed. Bishop ripped himself away from her and pulled the door open. She bounced against it when he stormed out and slammed it shut behind him.  
She stood there staring at the floor, all these feelings and emotions. They were becoming too much for her to handle. She wan’t used to all this. She ran for her bed before her knees buckled underneath her and reached for her pillow. Her body throbbed with desire that Bishop had nursed but a pain ached in her chest as her steel blue eyed Paladin came to mind. She curled up and hugged her pillow tightly muffling her sobs into it before she cried herself to sleep.


	15. Paarthurnax

They travelled up the mountain with a severely hungover Casavir, he tried so hard to conceal his lethargicness. She turned her head to look over at her shoulder at her Companion as he plodded up the frozen steps. She felt her stomach was bulging with all the knots it was in. Casavir had been even more stilted and resigned than before, she wanted to blame that on the booze but she knew it wasn’t.

Bishop and his piercing wolf like eyes were caught blatantly staring at her from time to time, it was unnerving. Know he had heard her call out Casavir’s name, the look on Bishop’s face when he heard her. It scared her. Would he tell Casavir? Or would he continue to stare her into the ground and eat away at her as she lost her mind to this insanity.  It was worrying not knowing what he was thinking or what was going on through his head. She couldn’t quite predict his next move. Bishop was never predictable.

_ Fuck sake, _ she veiled her face with her hood as she growled under her breath. She didn’t all this. She had responsibilities, a mission to take down a Alduin, the fucking world eater!  _ Why did the Gods make me a woman? _ She thought.  _ Being a man must be so much easier. _ She saw Karnwyr with his big paws kicking up the fresh fallen snow, he looked up at her with excitement blooming in his eyes. A smile crept on her face as she watched him run after a fox that scurried off into the trees.

_ Or they could have made me wolf. _ She thought.

“Your head still as sore as a Horkers balls, Paladin?” Bishop asked looking over his shoulder at Casavir. She glanced over at the Paladin as he brought himself to stand straighter than normal, his face screwed up in defense. It was rather surprising that Bishop was taking an interest in the Paladin’s well being.

“What on earth is that supposed to mean?” Casavir scowled at the vulgar remark.

“Is your head sore?” Bishop grinned.

“My head is fine.” He replied coldly, rather unsettled by the sudden concern.

“Hmm. Just you looked rather… wasted last night. Ha, for a big guy you really can’t hold you booze.” Bishop snorted. “Y’know, you could try have another drink… hair of the dog method.” Bishop teased. Casavir frowned at Bishop with a disapproving glare. He pushed on trying his best to ignore his taunts.

She just wanted him to shut up.  _ Hadn’t he caused enough trouble? _ She glared up at the Ranger who was sticking to the shadows of the trees to the stone steps.

“Ey, Paladin. I was just thinking. What if, it wasn’t the ale? I mean, you’re a big guy… If Jarrin root didn’t kill you, then I doubt two drinks would bring you down.”

“Bishop will you just let it go…? I’m not in the mood for your-” Bishop smiled wickedly and threw him the empty Skooma bottle into the snow in front of Casavir. The Paladin silenced himself as he stared at it. They waited for him to react as he just stood motionless staring at the bottle as his mind ticked over. When he finally looked up thunderous rage flickered in his eyes.

“You?! You drugged me?!”

“Ta da!” Bishop waved his hands about with a smug smile. With that, Casavir looked over at Sharis who just nodded to him. He had right to be mad, anyone would be mad to find out they had been drugged and the culprit just stood there, smiling proudly at their wicked deed.

Casavir was a dignified man, and Bishop had shamed him before any measure. Casavir’s face was one of pure rage, his shaking fists at his sides reached for a handful of snow off the rock close by and crushed it into a ball shape before he threw it at the Ranger. She pulled her hood closer to hide her amused grin at seeing the such a mighty warrior challenge a grown man to a snowball fight.

Bishop dodged it with ease and sniggered. His attention flashed to Sharis as his menacing gaze shocked her again.

“I should have known you’d do something so… so… !” Casavir growled. He threw his satchel off his shoulder and began to charge at Bishop who was too quick for the half intoxicated Paladin’s speed.

“Urrgh! Wait til I get my hands on you! You pumped up, no good swine!” He chased after Bishop as he ran ahead.

Sharis watched him take off into the trees after the Ranger. Picking up the empty vial and lobbing it full force into the distance where she couldn’t see, but she heard it smash against something, followed by Bishop’s laugh. By the looks on the Paladin’s angered face, it missed it’s target.

She picked up Casavir’s satchel and followed up the steps alone. Karnwyr ran after his brother leaving her alone for a while.

She wasn’t keen on the idea of being alone, not at the moment. Even though the atmosphere between the three of them was awkward, it was nothing compared to what the deafening silence brought flooding to her mind.

The dragons, the Greybeards, Alduin, Bishop… Casavir. Her worries hounded her, she hated having such burdens on her shoulders. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest and her stomach churned horribly. Why? Why did he look so hurt? She felt like she was losing her Paladin, she was reaching out for him and he was slipping through her fingers like sand. She batted away the thoughts chafing her spirit and hummed to herself, remembering her mother’s song that she always sang.

 

“A voice calls softly

It calls from within

To trust my steps

And to keep on dreaming

Around night falls and all turns to gray

But I hold a light to light my way

The sky is clear blue

No matter what we do

The road is long

But I see the light

That shines at the end

The arms reaching in

I know that you are waiting for me”

 

She smiled to herself, remembering the happier days when her mother would sing to her, nursing her out of her little sulk she would often slump into. How it would always bring a smile to her face, no matter how hard she would fight it. Even now the memories brought a smile with them.

_ “C’mon dimples, you can’t hide that smile forever.” _ Her mother’s voice sang through her memory.

 

“Though sorrows, troubles

May gather up high

Broken glass pieces

Fall from the sky

Memories though sad

Will hold something true

Shattered glass pieces

Reflect something new”

 

She had dealt with so much sorrow and her fair share of troubles in her life as a lone traveller, she was surprised she hadn’t thrown herself off a mountain peak yet. She was stronger than that though, the words to her mother’s melody once were nothing but a pretty song to make her smile. But now they grew meaning, she could relate them to her current struggles. This was her now, she was no longer a little Breton mage from a lumber mill. She was Dragonborn, with that came responsibility; responsibility she did not want but it was hers none the less.

 

“A voice calls softly,

It calls from within

To trust my steps

And to keep on dreaming

Around night falls and all turns to gray

But I hold a light, deep in my heart

I knew you were waiting right from the start”

 

Somehow the melody gave her strength, memories of times gone by. The laughter, the smiles, the love that were pure and strong. Voices from a fond memory of days gone by, what she had lost. But as her Gran once said to her. “It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” She smiled, feeling lucky to have such happy memories to cherish. She stood tall, filling her lungs with the pure icy wind.

She continued on, a new found strength pushing her on. Even though her families end had been a terribly one. She had made sure that their suffering had been avenged. It still brought her pain to think of it, but they wouldn’t want her to allow it to cloud her heart. Not when they sang her such sweet songs that always brought her joy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When they finally reached High Hrothgar, the Paladin and her roughed up Ranger had caught up to her. She demanded they sort themselves out before they even walked within eyesight of the structure. Now inside they found the Greybeards, meditating in the halling a deafening silence. Upon spotting the Dragonborn he rose to his feet and walked towards her, meeting her halfway.

“Welcome back.” He gave her a warm close lipped smile, his eyes turned to her two companions as he looked at them with growing discretion.

“Master Arngeir.” He addressed him with a bow. “I want to apologi-” She began but halted when a hand gripped her shoulder firmly. She turned to see Casavir step forward.

“I wish to beg for your forgiveness, for mine and the Ranger’s dishonorable behaviour. Lady Sharis is good and just. She has shown me the error of my ways and I cannot express how sorry I am.” Casavir bowed to the masters as they came over and stood alongside one another.

Arngeir looked up at Sharis, as he gave her a pleased smile.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Bishop added, rubbing the back of his neck. Clearly he wasn’t used to apologising.

“Very well.” Arngeir nodded. “However we will be watching you two. If either of you feel the need to brawl again, you take it outside. This is a place of peace and worship. Not a common tavern.” Arngeir warned, His voice calm, but it felt like he might as well be holding a knife at their jugular.

“It shall not happen again.” Casavir replied with a nod. Sharis smiled, a small weight lifted from her burdened shoulders. She placed a hand on Casavir’s arm a silent ‘thank you’ twinkled in her eyes. Casavir, swallowed hard as his eyes betrayed him and gazed at her. He looked away within mere moments and took a step back as she stood in front of the masters.

“I’m in need of your help, Master Arngeir.” She bowed her head.

“What is it you need Dragonborn?” Arngeir asked kindly. She took a deep breath as she plucked up the courage to speak.

“I need to learn A shout. One that will defeat Alduin.”

She saw Arngeir’s peaceful face screw into a scowl. “Where did you learn of that? Who have you been talking to?”

“It… It was recorded on Alduin’s wall.” She replied hesitantly.

“The Blades! Of course.” Arngeir sighed, shaking his head. “They specialise in meddling with matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds.” Arngeir spoke of the Blades with such disdain. “Tell me Sharis. Have you learnt nothing from us?”

Her blood began to boil, why was he being so prickly? He was worse than Bishop. Casavir and Bishop took another step back as her anger and frustration bled from her aura. They didn’t want to get in the way if this got out of hand. “Of course I have!” She snapped.

“Well clearly not. The way of the voice is one of peace, not one of carnage.” Arngeir huffed.

“So that’s it. You’re not going to help me?” She asked. The weight lifted from her shoulders suddenly was replaced with a heavier affliction. He shook his head and without a word, he turned to walked away.

“My lady…?” Casavir knew her no quit nature. But her impulsive nature and loathing towards arrogance could cause a fight to erupt between her and the Masters. He reached out to grab her arm but she slipped from his reach as she marched after Arngeir.

“Why won’t you help? Delphine herself sent me to you to ask for your help.” She followed quick on his heel.

“The blades have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. You are now a simple tool in their hands. They may claim to serve you, Dragonborn but they do not. They will use you for their own conceited purposes.”

“I’m no one’s tool! They’re trying to help me stop Alduin before he destroys us.”

“The prophecy foretold of Alduin’s return; and with it comes the end. If this is the end then so be it.” Arngeir replied. His stern and heartless response infuriated her. She could feel the burning rage inside her.

“WULD.” She whipped past him in the stone corridor catching her footing and turning to halt him from going further.

“So You’re just going to let Alduin destroy everything. Everything you know. Everyone you ever cared for. This world. Your brothers. You’ll let him destroy it all….?” Her voice turned dark, a growl rumbling in the depths of her voice. “You turn me away now, Arngeir, and you will have turned your back on this world.” He looked at her with wide eyes. Surprised at her boldness. A smile crept onto his old tired face as he began to chuckle to himself.

“You truly have a Dragon’s spirit.” He shook his head. “Resolute and fearless.”

She wasn’t sure about the fearless part, but she wasn’t going to correct him. She stood her ground refusing to let him pass as their eyes fell into a deadlock, neither wavering from their stare.

“This world can’t end. Please Arngeir, Help me?” She whispered, digging her fingernails into her palms, a minute sharp pain to keep her focused. He sighed shaking his head slowly.

“I’m sorry, Sharis. I Cannot help you.” Arngeir replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. She suddenly felt like the floor underneath her had just disintegrated, she wanted to break down and cry but what good would that do? Suddenly the ground shook as a rumbling voice shocked them.

“Arngier, Rok los Dovahkiin. Strundu’ul. Rok fen tinvaok Paarthunax.” Master Einarth spoke. She wanted to look up when she caught a glimpse of the companions become weak at the knees from his earth quaking voice shaking the stone beneath them, but she held fast to her stare. Master Arngeir finally shut his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh.

“Forgive me. I was… intemperate. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgement. Master Einarth speaks true.”

“So, you’ll teach me the thu’um?” She asked, holding to the fraying thread of hope she had left.

“I cannot teach you such a shout. Because I do not know it.” Arngeir replied. Sharis sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. _ So all that was for nothing? Arngeir, you stubborn old fart! _

“The shout you seek is called Dragonrend.” Arngeir continued. “Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer your questions”

“Paarthurnax? Where can I find him?” She asked.

“You must travel up the mountain to speak to him. Then it is up to him to see whether you are worthy of his knowledge.”

“Thank you.” She smiled.

“Follow me, you must learn a new shout to reach the top.” Arngeir said as he guided her back through the halls and past the masters and her friends. They all followed Arngeir to courtyard where he stood by the stone archway, beyond it were whirling winds and a blizzard beyond any she had ever seen.

“The Thu’um I will teach you is called Stin Lok, or in our tongue it is simply known as clear skies.” Arngeir informed her as she listened carefully. Arngeir nodded his head and proceeded to whisper the words into the stone at their feet. The words carved their way into the ground as she memorized the them. Arngeir gave her his understanding of the word before she headed towards the path up the mountain, she decided to used her new shout to give it a try.

“LOK VAR KOOR.” The thundering crack filled the air, powerful enough the clear the snow around her and the winds leading up the mountain dimmed to reveal the path ahead.

Casavir, about to follow her but was halted when Arngeir who raised a hand to stop him in his tracks. “The Dragonborn must do this alone.”

Casavir gave Arngeir a perplexed glance before turning to Sharis who had turned to them. “I’ll be fine” She said with a smile. With a heavy heart he nodded and watched her clutch at the thin burlap cloak.

“My lady? Here, it should keep you warm at the top.” He offered taking a step towards her as he unlaced his cloak from his armour. She wasn’t going to turn down his offer. She loved his cloak, it was indeed much warmer than her own. She beamed merrily as she accepted his cloak, handing hers over and he rolled it up and held it under his arm.

“Thanks Casavir.”

“Please be careful, my lady.” He bowed his head as she placed a delicate hand against his chestplate, where his heart ached.

“I’m always careful. Well… most of the time.” She teased before disappearing crossing the stone archway and vanishing from sight as the storm returned. Casavir grew worried when she vanished from sight but was comforted by the distant thundering shouts he heard from time to time as she cleared the way.  _ Please be safe my lady. _

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

His thumbs rhythmically pressed along the worn fabric of her cloak. Lost in the depths of his thoughts. Although he had the patience of a saint, he couldn’t help but worry about her when she was not in his sight.

_ Have faith, she is a capable fighter. She will return. _ He continuously told himself.

His eyes caught a glimpse of the Ranger, he’d been wandering around the courtyard for some time but now sat in the shadowed porch of the temple. Anger filled the Paladin, the burning rage was cooking him inside his metal armour when he contemplated what that wretch had done. Drugging him? He should have know he was up to something, how adamant he was to making him have that drink. It never crossed his mind that Bishop would stoop so low. But why?

He remembered most of that night. He remembered her startled face when he surprised her at the door. Next minute he was outside with her, she looked so beautiful in blue. And a dress too! He wouldn’t deny it,  he had a thing for ladies in dresses…

He remembered her falling on top of him, how it felt so surreal to have her so close again. He reveled in the moment, wrapping his arms around her. He couldn’t quite see her face through the shadowed darkness, but he could sense her lips, he remembered hold her face, the warmth of her cheeks and the feel of her plump lip trembling under the pad of his thumb. He’d been so tempted, his lips tingled with the longing to feel hers against his.

He pulled her close to his chest to prevent himself from breaking his will. He remembered nestling his face into the soft brown waves. Her scent aroused his senses. She always smelt so ravishing, feminine and floral a mixture of white wildflowers that bloomed in the valleys and lavender…

Then he remembered seeing them both…

That…letch had her up against the wall, away from where anyone would spot them. He was surprised he spotted them himself. It was like he could feel her presence before he saw her.

He was going to rip the mongrel off her but when he saw her face. They looked at him as though he had interrupted THEM.

He swallowed the hard lump in his dry throat. His chest tightened so much he felt like he couldn’t breath. He scrunched his eyes up tight trying to fight away the image branded into his mind.

She looked like she was enjoying his advances. Touching her, grinding her into the wall. The memory made him want to storm over to the savage dog right now and remove his head from his shoulders. But Lady Sharis would be appalled.

She cared for that savage; he couldn’t understand why. Perhaps it was because he was a free man. Free from laws or oaths, no one to obey but himself. He could drink with her, hold her… pleasure her.

He could never give her that. He could never be with her the way Bishop was able.

Well… he could…but…

No… He was a Paladin. A warrior of justice. Becoming a Paladin bound his heart from all that – or so he thought.

_ I have no right to feel this way. _ He scolded himself; but the truth was he did feel this way. It was becoming apparent to him that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape away from this. He couldn’t deny it. He…. he knew this feeling, he’d felt it before, a long time ago. But this time is was more vibrant, more potent. The feeling he got when he heard her voice, her laughter. When he saw her face, her smile. Simply knowing she was there, feeling her presence. It made him feel alive, it scared him… no, terrified him.

It was the only explanation he could think of. He’d fought beside women before, all just as capable as Sharis, but none of them made his soul sour, until he met her. Sharis the Dragonborn… The realization hit him hard and took the air right out of his lungs. But then they filled with thick tar as a thought choked him – knowing she did not want him.

_ She even made up an excuse to get inside to spend time with that Ranger. _ Casavir’s demons clouded his mind.  _ She’s too good for Bishop, she’s too good for me. _ She deserved the world, she deserved everything, not shadows of darkness. He couldn’t do this, fear shook him, he couldn’t take another knife to his heart.

He needed to let her go, he was never to be her romantic bane. But he was at her service. He couldn’t leave her, the thought of walking away from her hurt enough, but the thought of going through with it would surely be the end of him.

He would stand by her, be her sword, her knight, her protector, he’d fight for her…. Die for her. But his heart would always  **love** her.

As Casavir finalized his decision he looked up when he heard a thundering shout clear the falling snow around the courtyard and saw Sharis walk into view. A part of him was overjoyed to see her again, while another part of him wished he never looked up. He quickly dismissed that thought as he got up and began to walk towards her. Bishop and Karnwyr were already there.

“Ladyship! About time.” Bishop whined. His arms tightly crossed

He walked over to Sharis who was blanketed in his cloak, he examined her face. He grew worried when he examined her shocked expression.

“Are you alright my lady?” He asked as he drew closer. She nodded looked up at him with a waned smile. Her trembling lips turning blue.

“Let’s get you inside my lady.” He threw her cloak over the cloak that was already sat upon her shoulders.

“I need to speak to Master Arngeir” She shivered as Casavir sat her down in the stops beside a warm fire pit once they were inside.

“I shall go find him for you.” Casavir towered above her as he turned off and left her to find Arngeir.

It was silent in the halls only the soft clatter of Casavir’s armour as he walked out of sight. She held her frozen hands up to warm them at the fire, the warmth was burning hot against her red raw hands but it gradually eased.

A rough tongue licked her frost nipped face which made her smile when Karnwyr nestled into her. She was so grateful to be back from the frozen peak. The cold was perishing and the air at the top was thin, she wasn’t sure if that was the cause of what she had seen while she was up there.

She looked up when she felt the presence of a predator close to her. Bishops topaz eyes stared at her.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Did he teach you the shout?” Bishop asked,  resting himself against the stone with his arms crossed against his chest.

“Not quite. But he told me how to find it.” Sharis replied as she rose to her feet when she heard Casavir’s heavy footsteps echo back into the hall. Bring with him Master Arngeir.

“So… you have spoken to Paarthurnax?” He spoke matter of factly. She nodded still shivering now she was away from the warmth of the fire. Arngeir’s eyes twinkled with a hint of pride. “The dragonblood burns brightly within you.”

“Paarthurnax, he’s a -” She cut off before she said too much.

“Yes. And what do you think, knowing this?” Arngeir asked. she shook her head baffled.

“I… I don’t really have no opinion. Just… surprised I guess.” she replied.

“Did he tell you what you wanted to know? Did he teach you the dragonrend shout?” Arngeir asked.

Sharis shook her head again. “No, but he told me that it was lost in time after the Dragonwar. He told me I need an elder scroll.”

Sharis saw her companion’s attention snap to her,  she knew they were surprised. She knew she was.

“So be it… If he believes it is necessary for you to learn this… we will bow to his wisdom.” Arngeir said. “We have never concerned ourselves with the scrolls. The Gods themselves would rightly fear to tamper with such things. As for where to find it… such blasphemies have always been the stock in trade of the mages in Winterhold.”

“Winterhold?”

“You are a member of their order, are you not? Speak to one of your members. They many be able to tell you something about the elder scroll you seek.”

“Thank Master Arngeir.” she nodded with a smile, which he returned the nod.

“But first,  you will go and warm yourself by the fire.” Arngeir smiled handing her a tanker. Its contents was warm, it’s heat seeped into her hands from the mug which was bitterly sweet as it warmed her.

“You and your friends may stay here for the night. Master Wulfgar has informed me that there is a storm brewing.”

“Thank you.” She bowed her head.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Early dawn they made their way back down the mountain together – no running off this time. Again the journey was just as dreary as the days gone by. Casavir was silent as always, but his face and whole body language seemed to be turning more dour by the day. She’d have to say something soon, it was getting ridiculous. It was even affecting her.

Finally. They reached the foot of the mountain. The village children were playing outside with their mothers keeping a watchful eye them. One mother in particular was holding her youngest, Fleur on her knee who was recovering from her ordeal.

The little girl let out a squeal of excitement when she saw the Paladin cross the bridge. Sharis heard a low chuckle rattle within Casavir’s throat as he lowered his head slightly.

“My lady, may I speak with the family regarding the amulet?” He asked Sharis.  _ Wha? Oh. yeah, the amulet. _ She had actually forgotten about that, with so much on her shoulders she didn’t know whether she was coming or going these days. Never the less, it didn’t change a thing.

She nodded and followed behind him as he walked over to the mother on the porch with a fragile toddler on her lap. The little sat on her mother’s knee beamed a huge smile as he bent the knee for her.

“Good even Ma’am. Could I be so bold as to speak to your daughter? It is regarding an item she came to posses.” Casavir bowed his head. Acknowledging the mother who seemed flattered at the Paladin’s formality. She smiled. “Heard you had one too many the other night. How’s your head?” She asked.

“Ah, It’s emm… Allot better. Thank you.” He coughed nervously. His cheek growing a darker shade by the moment.

“My husband never takes no for an answer. I’ll be having words with him about getting a man of your stature into such a state.” She rolled her eyes with a smirk on her thin lips.

“That won’t be necessary, Ma’am. Do I have your permission to speak with your youngest?”  He quickly changed the subject. He could hear Bishop sniggering behind him. She nodded again. He bowed his head and turned to the young child on her lap who seemed so happy to see him again.

“Hello my lady.” He smiled warmly. “How are you feeling today?”

She nodded. I’ll take that as a good sign. He thought with a smile. The little girl looked up at Sharis, who was stood just behind Casavir watching him serenely as he spoke to the little girl. Children were certainly drawn to him, no matter what village they passed through. If there was a child in the area they would shadow him like a fly on-.

“You found her!” The little girl smiled bouncing up and down on her mother’s knee.

“Indeed.” He nodded with a soft smile. “I would never have found her without your help. Thank you.”

The little girls dimpled smile began to fade as she gazed at the Paladin with a puzzled look before reaching out for him.

With some hesitation from Casavir and an approving nod from her mother, Casavir reached out for the little girl and lifted her from her mother’s lap and sat her on his knee.

“Why are you sad?” She asked. This took him back for a moment.

“I’m not sad.” He replied kindly to the little girl who wasn’t convinced. Looking at him with her innocent eyes as they examined his features.

“You look sad.” She turned more to face him. Tracing the dents and scratches in his battered armour.

“Fleur, what have I said about being nosey.” Her mother chided her.

“It’s quite alright.” Casavir assured him. He once again was surprised at the little girl’s chubby fingers on his face, squishing at his cheeks again.

“Smile.” She said, pushing her thumbs upwards against the corners of his lips. This did in fact make him smile, underneath the forced one she pressed into his face, he chuckled taking her hands away to reveal her efforts were a success. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach when he caught a glimpse of Sharis smiling tenderly down at him. Fleur’s smile returned, proud of her accomplishment.

“Did you kiss and make up?” She asked. Casavir’s smile fell and eyes widened, blood rushed to his cheeks and he chuckled nervously and shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid that you be inappropriate.” Casavir replied. The little girl pouted her rosebud lips as she frowned.

“Kiss and make up.” Fleur ordered Casavir.

Casavir froze, how could he say no to such an adorable little thing? But he couldn’t just kiss Sharis, that WOULD be improper.

“Fleur, don’t be rude.” Her mother interrupted.

“Don’t worry, Casavir already apologised. It’s water under the bridge.” Sharis smiled coming over to rescue Casavir from the awkward situation. The youngster stared up at Casavir with her big eyes and slowly nodded her head.

“Now.” Sharis said. “May we ask Fleur some questions about the necklace?” She asked the mother who nodded her reply.

“Thank you.” Casavir cleared his throat. “So, Lady Fleur. We’d like to ask you some questions. You’re not in any trouble, so please answer truthfully… OK?” Casavir reached into his pocket and pulled out the cloth obtaining the broken necklace.

“When me and Lady Sharis healed you, She removed this from your neck. It was making you very ill. May I ask where you got it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, here’s Chapter 15 of my Fanfic.

I hope everyone who is taking to time to read my Paladin’s journey is enjoying it. 

If anyone is curious as to the song Sharis is singing to herself. It is an English version of the song  **[Itsumo Nando Demo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpMjSL4_Sbk)**  from Spirited away. You can find this song by just clicking the underline.

((I’M NOT ADVERTISING THIS SONG! I JUST LIKE IT!))

Hope you guys enjoy and thanks for reading!

  
  



	16. Gambling Wolves

On the road again. Armed with leads the little girl gave them.  
They were looking for a man, wearing black robes – most definitely a necromancer. It was difficult trying to get anymore information about him or even where to start looking for him since hardly anyone had seen such a man come through the town. Fortunately the chirpy little wood elf was able to point them in the right direction.

“Bosmer have the eyes of a hawk. That’s why you should never gamble with them – or try to cheat them.” Bishop preached as they headed East towards the Rift.

“So, where do we start?” She thought aloud as they all sat round the campfire after a long days journey. Bishop sat on his bed roll and tending to the string of his bow while Casavir sat cleaning his armour. Karnwyr rolled around in the dirty before scurrying off into the night after some night creatures.  
“This guy could be anywhere.” She grumbled, kicking off her boots. Casavir sighed deeply, as much as he was determined to find this man. She had a point. “I’m not sure… where would someone like that go from here?” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, there is one guy that may know who we’re looking for.” Bishop joined the conversation.  
“Goes by the name of slick jaw – don’t ask, I don’t know why he’s called that and I don’t actually care.” Sharis and Casavir both stopped what they were doing and listened to Bishop and where they could find this man.  
Bishop grinned. “Lucky for you, I know just where to find him.”

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
After a day’s journey they reached a old derelict fort, Bishop sent Karnwyr away into the wilds before they came any closer to the stone structure.

“If they saw Karnwyr, they’d put a price on him and we wouldn’t walk out of their alive.” Bishop said as he watched his wolf run off into the wild. She nodded and continued forward towards the ruins. whatever this place was she knew she would be safe with her Ranger and her Paladin. Bishop would never intentionally put her in harms way.

Two men in rusted steel armour stood guard at the gates. As soon as they saw Casavir coming into sight they gripped their weapons. Ready for a fight.

  
“Easy ladies, we’re just here to have some fun.” Bishop grinned holding his hands up in a non threatening manner.  
“We know your idea of fun, Bishop? What you doing here?” One asked.  
 _So they know him._ Casavir thought to himself. _Figures._  
“To drown ourselves in wine from a wrenches cup.” Bishop replied. Bishops comment gave Casavir a disgusted feeling in his gut, especially when he saw the guards finding it entertaining.  
“5 gold.” One guard said.

Bishop shrugged and paid, pulling Sharis to his side as he walked past. Leaving Casavir stood there clueless.  
“5 gold.” The guard repeated.

Casavir handed them the gold and walked past listening to them sniggering at him as he walked in. When he rejoined his companions, he saw her scolding Bishop for leaving Casavir outside without them.  
“What is this place?” Sharis asked as they followed down the stairs. Distant echoes and roars of an audience some distance before them.  
“You’ll see. Slick jaw loves to gamble. He’ll be here.” Bishop replied.

“What’s that smell?” She asked.  
“You’ll see soon enough. Oh Casavir, you’re gonna love this place!” Bishop glanced over with a wicked grin. It gave Casavir the idea he was in fact going to loathe this place.  
Casavir’s gut was right, he did loathe this place. Walking past dozens of women all dressed covering barely nothing he felt extremely uncomfortable.

  
_A paladin in a brothel. How wonderful._

  
“What’s wrong Paladin? I thought you’d enjoy some home comforts.” Bishop grinned as he walked ahead.  
“Home comforts?” Sharis questioned. She turned to look up at Casavir who was avoiding her entirely. Turning his face away from her. She knew from the look on his face and the gleam in Bishop’s eyes that it would be a very bed idea to press further. She awkwardly walked behind Bishop and remained silent.

“I swear to Arkay, if slick jaw isn’t here Bishop – you’re in so much trouble.” She said.  
“He’ll be here, he’s always here.” Bishop replied.  
The roars and cheers grew louder as they reached a room filled with men cheering. Converged around a cage in the center of the room. Men drinking themselves into a stupor and women peppered around. The smell of booze, sweat and metallic scent of blood hit their senses.

“So that’s what that smell is.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.  
Bishop was already heading for the bar and left Sharis stood looking at all the drunks in the room. As she followed Bishop, one man mistook her for a working girl and grabbed her arm.  
“Giv’uz an an’job.” He slurred holding a gold coin between his filthy fingers. _A what?_ She was mortified! Before a word could leave her mouth a strong armored arm pulled her away and held her tight.  
“Stay close, my lady.” Casavir said, pulling her protectively against him. She breathed a sigh of relief and nodded as they walked to the bar.

“He’s over there. Not in a good mood though.” The bartender said pointing to a man in the corner with girls around him trying to please him but to no avail.

   
“Evening Slick. How’s things?” Bishop made himself known as the man sat down looked up and frowned baring his teeth.  
“What the fuck do you want?!” He shouted in his thick Hammerfell accent, rising to his feet. He was tall, she couldn’t tell if he looked broad because of his thick layers on his clothes or if he was just muscular. A scar ran along his jaw from his ear to his chin.  
“Just coming to visit.” Bishop smiled calmly.  
“Hasn’t Thorn gutted you yet?” The man bit off.  _Thorn…_ that man still haunted her. She felt herself bristle at the utter sound of his name.  
“That bastard is dead.” Bishop replied. “You’ve got the Paladin to thank for that.”

  
The Redguard’s angered face turned into a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He turned himself to the Paladin and examined him from head to toe.  
“A Paladin?…in a brothel? Hmm, what’s he doing here?” He asked. His anger and frustration faded as he sat back down, the women crawled back to him. Casavir took a step forward and reached back into his pocket still staring at the man, who shifted awkwardly in his seat, almost like he was expecting to join Thorn.

  
“We are in the pursuit of a man. Bishop seems to think you may know who we are looking for.”  
“Really?” The Redguard eyed Casavir with interest. “I’m listening.”  
“According to the information we have been given, we’re looking for a male, possibly a necromancer. He travelled through Ivarstead some nights ago where he gave this to a child which almost took her life.” He explained, pulling out the broken necklace. The man’s face fell as saw the necklace, he grinned. From the man’s reaction, he recognised the pendant.

  
“Sit.” The man waved the girls away. Casavir took a seat on a stool. Bishop lounged himself on a bench at the table and pulled Sharis down beside him.  
“So, what else can you tell me about this man, just so I can be sure who I have in mind is right.” Slick asked as he poured himself some wine and rested back.

“Breton male, average height, slim. Black robes and brown hair. Shifty character.” Casavir described the man exactly the way all the villagers had described him.

  
“I think I know who you are looking for.” The Slick smirked taking a sip of his wine.  
“You think?”  
“Well, I know where you can find him.” Slick shrugged. They all waited for Slick to speak but he didn’t finish.

“Well…?” Sharis pressed impatiently.  
“Oh, I can’t tell you.” He said still with the same grin. Giving Sharis and once over.  
“Why not?” Casavir asked getting tense. A working girl came walking over trying to get his attention, he shook his head. Her hand stroked his face before she walked away. He seemed unfazed by her but Sharis was outraged, biting her lip hard as she refrained from getting up and throttling the bitch!

 

 _OMG! Am I jealous?!_ She thought to herself. She stared down at the floor as she battled to push the thought.  _Focus!_ She told herself.  
“Well, if I told you where to find this guy, then what would I get in return?” He shrugged.  
Casavir stood and pulled on his coin purse. “Very well, name your price.”  
“You.” Slick replied with the same smug grin on his face. Casavir hesitated.  
“… I’m sorry?” Casavir tilted his head and raised a confused brow at Slick. Casavir could hear Bishop sniggering behind him, clearly the Ranger knew something he didn’t.  
“Tell me, can you fight?” Slick asked, gesturing Casavir to sit down again. Casavir slowly seated himself back down, his brows knitting together silently considering the man’s perceptive insight- or lack of.  
“Can you fight like that?” Slick twitched his head upwards gesturing to the cage in the center where two men bloodied one another.

“As a Paladin, we are trained with all forms of combat.” Casavir replied holding his stony tone in his voice. Slick pulled a dazzling smile, pronouncing his teeth, each one unusually ending to a sharp point. Sharis blinked hard, incase she was seeing things but corrected herself quickly when she realised she was staring too long.  
“Well then, in that case. I have an offer for you.” Slick jaw shuffled comfortably in his seat. “Y’see. I need a fighter. The yellow bellied cunt that I paid hasn’t shown up, and I need someone in the ring.” He began to explain.

  
Sharis felt her jaw drop open, _Casavir? In a cage fight?!_ From what she could see when she looked over at the cage, it was a brutal sport. Shirtless, sweaty men beating each other senseless.  
“Why can’t you go in yourself?” Sharis asked. Slick smiled, even though it didn’t quite reach the corners of his large black eyes.  
“Because I have answers, sweetie pie. If I were to fight, then you would be left without any way of getting the answers you need.”  
“Can’t we just give you money?” Sharis insisted, shaking her head. No way was she going to allow it! She couldn’t bare the thought of her Paladin being in there.

  
 _No, not my Paladin._ She thought.

  
“I don’t like being bribed. I prefer to have a working order of things.” He replied coldly, resting his ear in his shoulder as he cocked his head over to give her a once over.

“So Paladin. What says you?… If you fight for me, I will answer one question for each round that you win.” He focused on Casavir who was deep in thought.  
“And if he doesn’t?” Sharis found herself on her feet, stepping forward to stand beside her Knight.  
“Then I’m afraid, you’ll be walking out here without a whisper.” He sucked through his teeth. Swishing the wine in his cup.  
“He’s a Paladin, you can’t expect him to go in there!” Sharis scowled.

“Why not?” Bishop debated.  
“He’s a Paladin! He has rules and an oath to preserve.” She snapped. Throwing daggers with her eyes when she heard her Ranger siding with the gambler.  
“Well his OATH… hasn’t stopped him fantasising about you, ladyship.”  
“Bishop! Don’t piss me off with your twisted mind!” She hissed, her cheeks burning when Casavir’s tender caress upon her face that night came flying back to her memory.  
“How many rounds are there?” Casavir asked, she snapped back to Casavir who was surveying the current fight.

“Tonight it looks like 11.” Slick replied.  
“And what are the rules?”  
“Bare fist only, you can kick if you want but weapons or armour are prohibited. None of that magic shit and you can’t heal yourself at any time in the ring. You stay in the ring until you drop.”  
 _Magic shit?!_  
 _He can’t be seriously considering going in there!_  
He sighed deeply and then stood, he gave a quick glance to Sharis and then proceeded to unbuckle the scabbard from his back. “Very well.” He sighed. “You have your competitor.”

“No, you can’t!” Sharis exclaimed.  
“Yes he can.” Bishop mimicked her.  
“Fuck off!” She snarled before chasing after Casavir as he went to the corner unfastening the clips and knots in his cuirass.

“Casavir, you don’t have to do this.” She pulled at his arm.  
“My lady please. This is the only lead we have.” He insisted pulling his chest plate over his head.  
“Why don’t we just make him tell us…? You know, take him outside and beat it out of him?” Casavir shook his head, glancing at her with his striking blue eyes.  
“Because, then I’ll have my guards kill you and I won’t tell you a thing.” Slick replied making Sharis almost jump out of her skin. She didn’t realise he was so close, she forced an awkward giggle and turned back to Casavir who was pulling his shirt over his head.

 _HOLY FUCKING HELLS!_ She blushed a deep crimson in her entire face as she drank in the overwhelming view. This divine sight had been hiding right under her nose the entire time?! She knew it, his body was to die for!  
Broad muscular shoulders and firm well toned chest, working her way down she let out a trembling sigh as she swooned over his divine sculpted form.  
A strangely shaped burn mark on his right deliciously toned peck, her hungry eyes wandered down to his firm flat stomach, soft slither of silver scars all over his marble skin.  
Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she followed a lovely line of black hair and defined inguinal creases that lead to something blocked by his leather belt and trousers.

She felt hot all over, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“FUCKING HELLS!” She yelped. Turning away quickly to hide her raw burning face.  
“Forgive me.” His deep warming voice caressed her every fibre.  
“No, no… Jus… just give me heads up before you go stripping will ya?!” She stuttered, her body beckoning her to look again at the mouthwatering view. When she did peer over her shoulder it was to see him looking down at his feet with the same blushing face.  
“Of course. Please forgive me.” He bowed his head. She slowly turned back to face him. She’d never seen him shirtless before. For some unknown reason it seemed unreal to see his body. She felt her soul drawn to him,  a magnetic pull as she yearned to wrap herself around him.

Her eyes stared at the burn mark. It didn’t look accidental or some form of birthmark – no. It was more like a brand. A symbol. A escutcheon shape burn into his skin, inside it was something that resembled a set of scales, sat upon what looked like a large bulky hammer. Her fingers itched to touch it, to trace alone the scared skin.  
“Casavir please don’t do this.” She instead reached out and placed a hand on his that were holding his crumpled up shirt.  
“I’m afraid it is too late to turn away now.” He replied with a sigh. She felt her heart in her throat, she’d heard of these pathetic fight rings. People died in these things.

“My lady?”

She looked up “Yes?”  
“Would you be so kind as to look after this until I return?” He asked reaching for the sparkling piece of jewelry around his neck. It was beautiful. Silver chain, delicately made, the pendent consisted of a teardrop shaped blue sapphire barred securely behind thin strings of silver.  
“Of course.” She blinked. Had he always been wearing that?  
“Thank you.” He smiled wearily, bowing his head as he pulled it over and placed it in her hand. She stared at there hands as he gently pushed her fingers to curl around the pendent.  
“Don’t get killed.” She ordered him, gripping his hand tight. He sounded a nervous chuckle and nodded. “Of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long after that he was called into the ring. He held his head up and stood tall as he walked in. The whole room fell into silence as he was announced.  
 _Awkward._ He thought.  
The first man he was facing was a small nord, quick foul mouthed. Prancing around with an intimidating glare that was having no effect on the Paladin.  
Sharis pushed through the crowd to the front to watch him. She didn’t want to see him get hurt but she wanted to be there for support and to cheer him on. She felt rather silly, he was a strong and capable fighter, but so were the other competitors.

  
The match started and like she’d hoped it was over in seconds, Casavir dodged the first strike and with one hit the weedy little Nord was out like a light.  
The crowd had a mixture of responses, still rather silent but stirred up as some began to place bets on the Paladin. She waited for Casavir to look up at her but he refused.

  
Challenger after challenger entered the ring and Casavir took down each one with quick smooth dodges and blocks and few powered, precise strikes.  
 _That’s my Casavir,_ she smiled. Pride and admiration filled her, though still worried she had faith he would be ok.

The next challenger was a Khajiit, same build as Casavir. She began to hear people sniggering behind her.

“This is gonna be good” She heard gambler say. She turned to Bishop who was stood next to her, collecting the winnings.

“You’re gambling!” She exclaimed.  
“Why not? He’d getting me good coin.” Bishop shrugged pulling Sharis closer to him to avoid a drunk leering making his way over to her.  
“You’re unbelievable.” She rolled her eyes. He laughed and squeezed her tightly against his chest. She wanted to snap away from the Ranger but she had seen the drunk as well.

  
The crowd began to grow louder as there was a crash against metal. She looked over to see Casavir against the cage as the challenger struck him again and again in the stomach.  
“Cas!” She gasped jumped at the cage, gripping the bars with white knuckles.  
She had to restrain herself from using her Thu’um to get that beast away from him. Casavir moved quick and was out of range. The Khajiit swung again and blood flew in the air. A splatter landed on her cheek. She froze in shock as caught a glimpse of the deep claw marks running in Casavir’s chest.  
Casavir grunted as he caught the Kahjiit’s fist and threw him over his shoulder crashing him to the grown and striking hard. It was over. The crowd roared in applause.

  
“PAL.A.DIN! PAL.A.DIN!” The crowd began to chant as he stood up and watched two men come and drag out the unconscious Khajiit. He looked down at his chest which was painted red with his blood.

 

 _Wonderful,_ he sighed.

  
“Give him a healing potion for that cut, that strike was against the rules.” The bony little ref ordered and Casavir was handed a cloth and a minor health potion to clean the wound.  
Ounce done. He threw the cloth to the ground and handed the bottle to a man reaching out for it and waited for his next challenger.

A brutish orc who was savage with punches that hit hard like a cave troll.  
However, after taking many brutal strikes he realised quickly his technique was predictable and surprised the crowd with another jaw dropping knock out.  
The crowd roared in applause as Casavir sighed relief. It was over, finally!

 

As he turned to leave, another man came in, burly Nord.  
“What?” Casavir frowned looking up at Slick.  
“More contenders, you must stay in till you fall.” Slick winked, a naked woman on his lap, giving Casavir seductive smile to get his attention.

 _DAMN IT,_ Paladins don’t fall unless they are killed. He couldn’t lose, but he was tired, unable to heal or rest until he was out of the ring. It was a challenge of endurance and strength.  
The drums sounded and they began to fight, the constant fighting beginning to take its toll on Casavir, but he was still a strong worthy fighter.  
Taking blow after blow and taking down every man who challenged him. His body count was 25. Blood, sweat and dirt covered him.

“I can’t watch anymore.” Sharis hissed through gritted teeth, blinking back the tears of worry. Why wouldn’t he look at her? He didn’t look up once in her direction.  
“Casavir!” She barked at him as he leant against the wall to catch his breath. The two men dragging out the flaked out challenger. He walked over to her with his eyes to the ground.

  
“Yes, my lady?” He panted.  
“Are you ok? Your chest is…” She paused. She just wanted to hold him, she was so… worried for him.  
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, my lady. It truly gives me strength.”

She felt herself choking up, she didn’t know what else to say. She already experienced him being badly wounded and it scared her more than she thought it would, she couldn’t bare to face that feeling she got when she found him surrounded by wolves again.  
It was the same thing, in a metaphoric kind of way. All these drunks and gamblers were the wolves, her Paladin stood in the centre. The beasts feeding of him like leaches.

  
She reached through the bars and touched his hair. _Wow,_ it was soft… like fine silk. He flinched at first, something wet met her fingers. She knew it wasn’t sweat. She secretly considered giving him some healing spell. But quickly thought against it.

  
“Be careful.” She said softly.  
“Always, my lady.” He lifted his head but averted his sight from her, why?! He saw his necklace hanging from her beautiful neck, his heart swelled, it looked so beautiful on her. It gave him a boost of energy to see her wearing it.

  
“LAST CHALLENGER FOR TONIGHT!” The weedy little man sat on top of the cage shouted as the last fighter entered the ring. Sharis’s jaw dropped as she looked at the brute.  
He was huge! There was definitely giant blood in this man, big as a moutain. Taller than any Nord she had ever seen! Muscles bulging all over his body with a sick looking smirk at her Paladin.  
Casavir turned around and looked at his competitor. _Oh hells,_ he thought as he kept his blank yet weary expression.

  
“Well, my bets are on the big guy.” Bishop said as he pulled Sharis away from her Paladin. She tugged away and back to the cage where her Casavir readied for the battle.

“Kick his ass Cassie!” She called to him. She saw him stiffen and raise an eyebrow as he glanced over at her. She smiled. _Well that worked._ “Is that your bitch?” The mountainous man said in a deep grating voice. He looked over at Sharis, ogling her with his small leering eyes. “Is her cunt as pretty as her face?” He barked an annoying laugh.  
 _My what?!_ She felt rage build inside her, what an insult! She heard men around her sniggereing and she tried to hide herself behind Bishop.

“Do not speak of her that way.” Casavir growled. His face screwed into a look of disdain at his comment. The man laughed and flicked his tongue between his fingers at Sharis, she felt sick.

“What an asshole.” Bishop snarled pulling her in.

The fight began, Casavir was thrown against the metal cage with an brutal strike to his face. Spitting blood to the ground he realised it was time to change his tactic, dodging was his best chance of keeping in the fight as this moment in time. Blocks were pretty much useless as each hit stunned him to his core.

“C’mon Cassie!” She yelled through the crowd who were now cheering for his opponent.  
He heard her, her voice was a whisper through the crowd of roaring drunks but it was like she was right beside him. Like a light in the dark he was drawn to her voice giving him a form of strength he stood his ground and fought with all he could muster.  
He swung his leg for a strike to the mountains side, BAD move. The mountain gripped his leg and punched hard against his thigh.

  
***crack***

  
Casavir let out a cry in pain as the hefty contestant slammed him to the stone floor. Searing pain ran through his body from his leg as he rolled on the ground away from a stomping foot. Casavir limped around the ring doing his best to avoid strike after strike.

Gripping the bars of the cage, she watched in overwhelming worry as her Paladin struggled to keep going. That big oaf found his pain entertaining.

 _DAMN HIM, DAMN HIM TO FUCKING OBLIVION!_ She snarled.

Her blood ran cold, panic flew over her as she watched her brave Casavir being beaten down to the point where many would have broke.  
Her body burned with rage. She bit her tongue to stop her blasting that bastard, turning him into nothing but a bag of meat and bones. Casavir was grounded, on his hands and knees, panting labored breath.

“Casavir?” She breathed. He looked up at her like he heard her, sweat dripping from his body, his face swollen black and blue and blood leaking from cuts and bruises all over him. His eyes were pained and looked so vulnerable yet still strong and proud.

She gasped as the mountain pulled Casavir into a tight choke hold, lifting him so she could see the pain in his face.  
“Look at your man, not so big now is he?” The mountain sneered. “When i’m through with you i’ll celebrate my win by fucking your bitch till she squeals.” He said quietly in Casavir’s cheek. Crushing at his windpipe, Casavir held onto the muscular arm and pulled desperately to break for air as it crushed him.

 

“No!” She cried. Her body desperately trying to reach Casavir. Bishop pulled her back and spun her around to face him.  
“You don’t wanna see this.” He said cupping her face to focus on his. Her mind wild with the howls of wolves around them. Her blue eyed knight clutching for life. She struggled against Bishop, refusing to let him pull her away. He gripped her tighter as she cried for him to let her go.  
“Sorry Princess.” Bishop growled as he slammed her abruptly into the cage and forced his body against her, his mouth found hers as he roughly claimed it. Hot and tangy, his tongue again forced his way into her mouth. Her squealed protests went unheard as he gripped her hard. She felt disgusted! Not only in his advance towards her but his extremely poor timing. His hands gripped her so tightly she feared her bones would break under the pressure.

She heard her Casavir thundering cry boom behind her. Panic filled her as her stomach knotted.

  
“Get off!” She managed to break free for a split moment. When his tongue darted into her mouth again, she bit down against the foreign flesh forcing it to retreat back.  
Bishop pulled his face away with a mixture of pain and achievement etched into it.  
The howls of the drunks fell silent. The awkward silence came to her as she glared up at the Ranger. _How dare he… of all the opportunities, of all the places!_

  
“You fucking ASSH-!”

  
“Paladin wins!” A stranger’s voice rang through the room. Followed by a mixture of sounds of celebration and disbelief. She shook herself from Bishops grasp and turned to see her Paladin pulling himself up to his feet. His opponent lay in a battered mess.

  
…… What?


	17. Do you love him?

 

 

He couldn't breath, his opponents grip grew tighter with every passing second. His fingers slipping off the man's sweat sodden arm. A clatter on the cage begged Casavir to pry his eyes open, his lady's voice awoke him.

Bishop had pushed her against the cage with his hands all over her. Kissing her…

Bishop's devilish eyes looked over and met his. Twinkling with victory. He’d won, he had drowned the light in the shadows that were him. Possibly the only thing that Casavir was holding onto. He had dared allow himself to dream of times he may be blessed to hold her, touch her angelic face,  to kiss her sweet lips so tenderly, to cherish her… how foolish.

  
His body grew weak and he felt his heart being crushed along with the fragile piece of hope he had held onto. He began to let go of everything, the fight left inside him vanished, leaving but a shell to be crushed under the force of this deadly opponent.

But in his weakest point he felt something trigger in him, like a spark that lit the fire on a cold night. His head told him to let go, but his heart refused. Something pulled him out of his despair, her smile, her laugh, everything - all flashed before his eyes.

  
He wouldn't give up... He couldn't...

  
A huge mass of energy flew into him at that moment, breathing new life into his aching body. His eyes glared at the Ranger, challenging him with a single menacing stare as he let out a sound shattering roar.

  
His fingers miraculously found stability as he managed to break free from his opponents grip. He used his sweat soaked body to his advantage as he slipped free from every grapple the brute attempted. He swung his fist hard as he could into the man's face, which to his surprise did seem to disorientate the giant challenger.

Casavir ducked, dived and struck at every chance he had. The searing pain in his leg vanished as adrenaline swam through his veins. Casavir took every opportunity he could and soon he had a perfect shot.  
With all the energy he had left, he gave a final powerful sideswipe; feeling his opponent's jawbone crack and dislocate against his knuckles. He fell on his hands and knees and watched his opponent flop lifelessly to the ground beside him. The howling audience fell silent, utterly stunned at Casavir's rise from the ashes and another complete knock out.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Everyone's eyes were on the Paladin as he staggered out of the fighting cage. Ounce passed the cold rusted bars, he cast a tome which engulfed him in light. He breathed in the healing stamina and stood tall, limping his way through the parting crowd towards Slick, who was still sat; grinning like the cat that got the cream.

  
“I’m impressed Paladin. No one has ever beaten that guy!” Slick guffawed loudly, counting the bundle on winnings.

“I have kept to my side of our arrangement, now it is your turn.” Casavir replied sternly. His eyes hard as stone, his voice was etched with a suppressed pain.

“Of course! But for now, I think you’re in need to a freshen up.” Slick replied. Turning to whisper something into the woman's ear who was sat on his lap. She giggled with a gentle nod of her head and gave Casavir a sultry smile as she rose to her feet.

“Helena will take VERY good care of you.” Slick said as he popped open a bottle of ale and turned his attention to the bard who began to play in the corner.

“Follow me, sir.” The young woman chimed in a sweet voice. Her fingers seductively ran up his chest before she headed for the archway leading him deeper into the ruins.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
“Cas!” Sharis called,  pushing through the bustling crowd of drunks. “Fucking move will ya!” She snapped at a leering swine who refused to get out of her way.

She soon sorted him out with a hard knee between his legs. She jumped up again and again to look over the sea of bobbing heads and spotted Casavir following a young woman through a dark archway.

 _Where's he going?_ She thought to herself.

  
“Ladyship, leave him be.” Bishop grabbed her arm. She yanked herself away from his touch the moment she felt it. She was way too wound up to be even attempting to deal with Bishop right now. If she did, it would end VERY badly.

  
She pushed through the crowd to Slick who welcomed her with a wry grin and his wandering eyes down her figure.

“He went that way.” He answered before she could ask. She noted his rude ogling and marched down the corridor to find him. By the looks of it, these were washrooms. But by the sounds she was hearing from behind the closed doors, she could tell they served other purposes.

He mind pondered the thought of why he followed that woman down here, was he just cleaning up after the fight? Or was he going to relieve some tension?

 _Don't be fucking stupid!_  She scolded herself.

She hurried on uncomfortably, hoping to find him soon, she thankfully found the woman heading back to Slick. She wouldn't deny the relief she felt when she saw her.

"He's in there." The young woman said,  pointing Sharis to a door on the far right.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Stood outside the door, she took a deep breath to compose herself, she counted to ten, and knocked. A light little rap on the door that made her feel sick with anxiety

  
“Ugh, hello?” Casavir’s voice called from behind the door.

“Casavir, it’s Sharis?” Sharis replied. No answer.

She was about to knock again but the door opened and a bruised battered man peered from the crack. She wouldn't have recognised him if it wasn't was his striking blue eyes that met hers.

  
“Is there something you need, my lady?” His eyes stared at her with a polite tone to his voice. She could tell in his eyes that he'd seen Bishops little display.

Her stomach turned in painful knots. It angered her how Bishop enjoyed making her feel uncomfortable, and even more so that in doing so was pushing Casavir away.

  
“Can I come in?” She asked taking a step closer to the door.

“It would be best if you waited with the Ranger, my lady.” He replied quickly. This angered her a little. His cold responses were grating her raw. But she ignored it and pushed against the door.

  
“But you told me to stay close to you.” She answered quickly. Casavir eyed her for a brief moment. His mind scouring for an excuse.

“I need to bathe, my lady.” He blurted as he pushed back against the door.

“I won't look.” She pushed harder.

“I'm not dressed!” He exclaimed, holding the door still. She could already see that when she caught a glimpse of his exposed hip from the crack in the door.

“Casavir!” She barked. “Let me in. We need to talk.”

“Can't it wait, my lady?” This would have been comical, if she wasn't so wound up.

  
“No. Now let me in before I thu’um this damn door down!” She stepped back, taking a deep breath. Casavir paused for a second, his eyes wide, staring at her helplessly.

 

"ONE."

  
“W-wait! My lady, Please! Let me cover myself first.” He shut the door. She didn't wait, the moment the door clicked shut, she jumped for the handle. Afraid he'd lock it she burst in just in time to see Casavir leap behind a chest of drawers to cover his nether region.

  
“My lady! Please, I'm not decent.” He whimpered. His bruised face was bright red with embarrassment.

 _WOOPS!_ She herself blushed. Casavir's leap to safety must have been a painful one, judging by the anguish on his face.

She struggled to look away when she was captivated by the fine sculpted shoulders and defined muscles. A deep burn on the right side of his chest below his clavicle. The claw marks were now nothing but fresh pink slithers. Sweat made his body glisten in the light of the flickering flame from the pit in the centre of the room. A part of her was squirming to run to him, he looked in so much pain. His face was so badly beaten she could barely recognise him, tears began to well in her eyes but she held them back. 

  
“Sorry!.. I, I thought you were going to lock it.” She turned to face the wall, not just to keep his privacy but to hide the tears as they suddenly leaked down her cheek.

"I-it's alright, my lady." He stuttered timidly. "Please excuse me."

“I’ve seen naked men before Cas... I've seen Bishop naked.” She said trying to comfort him. She felt herself cringe the moment the statement left her lips.

“W… what?" She heard him speak baffled by her peculiar comment.

“Oh, no! Not like that! Just when he strips off and walks around naked sometimes... You know what he’s like.” She quickly attempted to recover from her blundering words. Shuffling sideways to escape behind the wooden dressing curtain.

“...Of course.” He replied flatly.

 

She heard him shuffling around, the creak of metal and the sound of water pattering against stone. She could hear the water slapping gently against Casavir’s body before it sploshed on the floor.

It was tortuous, she wanted to look round to watch. She’d never seen him bathe before. In fact... for some odd reason... she never visioned this side of him.

Curiosity bored into her and she finally caved. She peered through the crack in the divider to look at him, the light from the fire dancing on his wet skin as he climbed out of the Dwarven shower and was now stood drying his hair with a towel while another hung loosely around his waist.

His beautiful fair skin emitted a golden haze under the flickering warm light. She bit down on her lip to hold back a whimper as she surveyed the unsuspecting Paladin.

 _How unbecoming of me!_ She quickly pulled herself away. If he knew she was leering at him from behind this screen, he’d be mortified!

  
“Can I come out now?” She cleared her throat, playing the the fraying fabric of her mage gi. There was some more shuffling and grunts of discomfort before he responded. “Yes.”  
She came out from behind the screen to face her Paladin. He was clean and dressed in a fresh pair of trousers and a dark blue tunic, loosely fastened at his collar.

His face was still badly bruised but the swelling had gone; his bruises were no longer black like before. They were now turning to a more pleasant shade of blue and tawny green.

He must of felt uncomfortable with the way she was gawking at him because he looked down at his feet. His hands clasped together behind his back as he bowed his head.

  
“You wished to discuss something, My lady?” He inquired. She stared blankly at first, she forgot about all that for a short while.

"I'm sorry I jumped in like that. That was very impolite of me." She said nervously.

"There was no harm done, My lady. But I thank you for your apology." He replied with the same polite regimental response. She nodded.

  
“Um. How's your leg?” She asked, clearing her throat.

“It will be fine, once I've tended to it appropriately.” He replied.

“Here, let me help.” She stepped towards him. She could see his body tense up as he shuffled back from her. She paused, rather hurt by his reaction.

  
“My lady, you are most kind. But there is no need for you to burden yourself.”

“Don't be ridiculous!” She snapped. Her quick sharp interruption ground him to a halt. “You heal me all the time. YOU said yourself; you heal faster when someone does it for you. Now. Sit. down.” She pointed to the bed in the corner.

He bowed his head in defeat and began to walk the short distance to the bed. Attempting to conceal the limp in his step. He sat himself down, avoiding any eye contact with her as she pulled up a stool and sat in front of him.  
She rubbed her hands together and emitted a warm glowing light, the pulsation allowed her the sense of insight as she could detect where he had injured his leg.

 _A hairline fracture, should be easy enough to mend._ She thought as she placed her hands over his femur and cast her restoration.

 

It was silent between them, but the chiming of her healing spell and the crackling logs on the fire somewhat comforted her. She never felt uncomfortable with silence, especially with Casavir. But knowing what he had seen and the endless weeks of detachment and the cold polite responses from him was taking it’s toll on her. The tolerance she had to keep silent had finally reached it’s limit.

  
“... Casavir…?” She gulped. She needed to say something. This dance of malaise needed to end. Whatever Casavir had to say she was prepared to take it.

“Yes, my lady?”

“I know you saw… me and Bishop.” She addressed the mammoth in the room. There was an electric tension in the air as she waited for a response. Casavir dipped his head almost completely hiding his heart-rending expression.

“Yes... I did.” His reply was almost whisper. Her heart sank upon hearing him. A part of her had hope he’d question what she meant, but she could already read it in his eyes. She nodded, pulling her lips tight to cease their infernal quivering.

“Do you love him, my lady?” Casavir asked, his voice was sincere. She looked up at his profile, his eye staring at her hands as they worked their magic to knit together his bone.

“What?” She frowned confused.

“It is obvious that he harbours feelings for you. I do not know what his feelings intend, but I only wish to see you happy; and if he can achieve that? ...Then... who am I, to stand in your way?”

“Cas, me and Bishop… we…” She began.

“My lady, I only wish to warn you of him." His hands grabbed hers and held them tightly.  "He's a dangerous man, and darkness is his ally. I DON'T want him to hurt you.” His eyes shone with flakes of gold light as they fought to hold their gazed upon her. His eyes filled with sincerity and concern.

  
“No. You misunderstand Casavir. Me and Bishop aren't a thing. We never have been!” She shook her head to escape his hypnotic gaze.

“... But… I, I saw you…? At Ivarstead an-and just now! …?” He blinked, confused as the memories flashed back to mind.

“No, no…” She shook her head.

“So he… he force himself onto you?” Casavir quizzed. His eyes widened, rage lingered like rippling waves in the depths of his two blue pools.

“Just then - yes.” She paused.

“And Ivarstead?”

  
She was about to say yes, but a tightness in his chest stopped her. She hung her head, why did it hurt so much? Casavir was loyal and trustworthy. Someone she could always confide in. But some reason this was difficult. 

She had pushed Bishop away that night, he had forced himself onto her... but she hadn't truly fought back! A part of her wanted him to do things to her.

The feeling of disgust filled her again and she pulled her lips in tightly, scrunching her eyes to fight back the tears of guilt.

 

“Oh, my lady… I-” Just as Casavir spoke, Bishop abruptly barged into the room.

“Ah, I wondered what was taking so long! Wha-” Bishop didn't have time to finish as he suddenly flew through the air and crashed into the wall, the crude stonework dug into his back as Casavir pressed him against it.

Casavir’s eyes were hard, murderous wrath stormed in them. His lips peeled back to exposed his snarling teeth.

  
“I SHOULD HAVE BASHED YOUR HEAD IN AT HIGH HROTHGAR!” Casavir boomed, his voice shook with utter rage. Bishop just stared back, unfazed by Casavir's sudden outburst.

“Oh calm down will ya. It was just a-!” Casavir pressed harder against his neck to silence him.

“Cas!” Sharis yelped, rushing over to attempt splitting them apart. “Let him go!”

“You EVER touch her again and I'll-!” Casavir snarled through his grinding teeth. Bishop thought fast and kicked Casavir’s still tender leg, just enough to make Casavir aware of the pain. Ounce Casavir reared, him he quickly darted for the other side of the room, his hand gripping his sheathed dagger.

  
“Now. Before you getting all noble, Cassie. Listen up.” Bishop readied himself as Casavir took a step forward but Sharis pulled him back.

“Don’t you call me, Cassie!” He barked angrily.

“Casavir, please.” She begged. Her angelic voice soothed him as he reeled in his brimming anger.

  
“I only kissed her to piss you off, alright!” Bishop sighed.

“Excuse me!?” Casavir growled.

“I knew it would get you all irate. So I made a little display, so you would take your anger out during the fight - and before you get all high and mighty! Let's just remind ourselves who won?” Bishop relaxed folding his arms across his chest.

Casavir didn’t seem convinced. “You think that justifies what you have done?!” Casavir frowned. His anger simmering down but his voice still held the thundering tremble of a typhoon. “What makes you think you have the right!?”

“I never said I did have the right.” Bishop shrugged.

“And Ivarstead? You force your grubby hands on her there too?!” Casavir’s teeth gnashed.

“Yeah, that time I was actually making a move.” Bishop nodded. “Didn’t get me anywhere though. She’s more frigid than you.” He laughed, dodging a vase that came hurtling through the air.

“You bastard. I’m not frigid!” Sharis snapped.

 

The room fell deathly silent as strange noises echoed from the other room. Muffled moaning and grunts. They all stared at the floor when they realised what the cause of the sound was - apart from Bishop who just smirked, entertained at the sudden flush of red in the Paladin’s face.

  
“Alright, I’m out. Just came to tell you guys to hurry up. Slick isn’t very patient.” Bishop rolled shoulders and sheathed his blade. Striding confidently out the room. 

“Yeah, I'm going to leave you to… well, yeah.” She blushed a blood red and hid her face behind her long hair. She spun on her heel and left without another word, catching up with the Ranger by throwing a paralysis spell at him. 

“I don't know you're playing at Bishop, but quit it!” She glared into his eyes while his stared back. Helpless against her, yet they still looked unperturbed.

“It isn’t funny messing around with people’s feelings Bishop. You EVER touch me like that again, and it WILL be the last time you have hands.” She pressed him sharply into the wall and left him to recover from his paralysis while she headed back to slick to wait for Casavir.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A day's travel lead them to the spot Slick had marked on their map.

“I suppose this is the place he was describing.” Casavir dismounted his horse and tied him to a nearby tree.

“Let’s hope.” Sharis said, as she examined at the map ounce more before dismounting Allie. They stood outside the old crumbling ruin, a certain unease emitting from the place.

“C’mon then, let's get this done.” Sharis stepped towards the entrance. Casavir followed her but Karnwyr’s whimpering made her stop and turn back. Bishop was knelt down beside him, Karnwyr’s ears pinned back and laying still as stone amongst the ferns.

“What’s wrong with him? Is he sick?” Sharis asked.

“We shouldn’t go in there.” Bishop replied. Standing up and shaking his head. “Karnwyr doesn’t normally act like this. When he does it’s never good.”

Sharis mulled to herself as she gazed at her four legged companion. Bishop was right, Karnwyr never acted like this. Karnwyr was foolhardy and first to attack, for him to avoid even coming near the place was unsettling.

Still she promised she would do this, she peered up at the Paladin who was looking back at the entrance of the ruins. His eyes narrowed with determination, she knew he was going in and there was no way in hells she would let him go in alone.

 

“Well, Karnwyr can stay here. Me and Casavir will go.”

“No, my lady. The wolf is not the only one who senses the darkness lurking in this place.” Casavir turned to her. “I feel it would be best if you too stayed outside. I will go in alone.”

“Oh no you don’t!” She frowned. “WE. Are a team. We do this together or not at all.” She stared into his silver blue eyes as they flitted through his emotions, finally settling on a neutral calm. He bowed his head. “Very well.”

“Then I’m coming too. Karnwyr can watch the horses while we’re gone.” Bishop stepped over to the entrance. She smiled thankfully up at Bishop. She was still annoyed with him but he’d softened after their little talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can’t see a fucking thing.” Bishop groaned, as he kicked something in the dark. They entered the old ruins with great care. The ruins wreaked with a strong smell of damp and rot.

“A torch would only give away our position.” Casavir replied.

“Princess, you got any spell that can help us here?”

Sharis smiled and conjured flames into her hands, just enough to see through the dark winding labyrinth of corridors before them.

"There's a dark energy in this place." Casavir said as they delved further.

"Ya’ don’t say!” Bishop replied sarcastically. They halted when they saw something moving in the distance. A man, dragging his feet as he patrolled the point.

"Bishop?" Sharis turned to him. Bishop was already on his way their, within a blink of the eye bishop pulled the man into the shadows and it was over. She heard Casavir grunt with disapproval as Bishop pushed on.

 

"Wait up." She whispered. Casavir and Sharis followed the Ranger on as the smell of death grew stronger. They finally caught up with the Ranger as he stood rigid before a stone archway. He turned to them slowly, a face with uncomfortable disposition.

"OK. We should go back." He said. His eyes fixed on Sharis. She frowned, before walking towards the archway. Clearly something he'd seen was making him act this way. He quickly grabbed her middle and began to push her back.

"Bishop. Get off!” She hissed, pulling herself free. "What's wrong with you?"

"We shouldn't be here. That man I just killed was already dead! This place is wrong." She stared him wide eyes. For Bishop to be unsettled was something she rarely saw. 

She watched as Casavir took a step towards the archway, looking into the space where Bishop once was. His calm face turned between a mixture of shock and disgust.

"Bishop is right, My lady. You should both wait outside. I'll return once I've..." Casavir said, gripping the hilt of his sword.

"Ey, we're not going anywhere without you. WE. Work together." She wriggled violently out of Bishops grasp and stomped over to the archway to see what all the fuss was about.

An overpowering smell of decay assaulted her senses. She couldn't help her body's reaction as she gagged. She was no stranger to the smell, but it was so overpowering she felt it would be the only thing she would ever smell again. She was indeed horrified by what she saw.

 

Corpses scattered the room, disfigured and twisted into disturbing positions. “What the fuck!” She gasped, taking a step into the dimly lit tomb.

“Princess, c’mon – we’re leaving.” Bishop barked a low whisper.

“What is all this?” She asked. Staring at all the bodies of men and woman. From common folk - fully armoured warriors, rigour mortis froze them solid in their last moments of life.

She stared at the long stone table in the centre of the room; the table was set and the food in the platters was maggots infested. The way the corpse were sat around the table was disturbing. Even though some were badly decayed she could tell they were female. Dressed in fine clothes and jewellery, positioned in ways as if they were still alive and enjoying a feast.

“I don’t really wanna stick around to find out.” Bishop retorted, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her back towards the corridors.

She was somewhat defiant, her adventurous flame dimmed at that moment. In her short time adventuring Skyrim, she had never seen something so twisted. Her eyes noticed Casavir was inspecting a cadaver that was disfigured against the wall. Strange markings painting on the stone in blood.

“Then you leave Bishop, but I’m staying with Casavir.” She pulled free yet again.

“Fuck sake Sharis!” Bishop snapped.

 

“Sharis….?” A voice echoed from a dark corridor ahead. Her heart jumped to her throat, it’s sound sent a cold shiver down her spine.… She knew that voice, it was a echo from her childhood. Her eyes glazed over as she stared into the dark. A familiar face she thought she would never see again walked out of the black.

_W-wha….. no way….._


	18. Kin

“Sharis?” A man slithered out of the dark. “Is that really you!…?”

  
“… Why does he know your name?” Bishop asked, staring blankly at the strange man before them. Sharis lost her voice, all cognitive sense had left, leaving her on factory reset. Was it really him? _How? What?_ …she stared at him as if she was looking at a ghost.

  
“Look at you! You’re even more beautiful than I remember! I wasn’t expecting you so soon. How long has it been?…Seven years?” He breathed a laugh through a crooked smile, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You know this guy?” Bishop frowned, knocking an arrow in his bow. The man took a step towards them, his eyes locked onto her. His long black robes added to his dark demeanor, along with his hollowed cheekbones and blanched palette, he looked unstable. Surely this wasn’t him… _no,  it couldn’t be him._  
The man froze mid step when the rasping sound of steel came to his ears. Casavir assumed position beside Sharis with his sword at the ready. Warding the man to keep his distance.

“Ah, I thought I felt a disturbance in my lair.” The man smiled devilishly. “You have a very distinctive aura around you. Hallow and bright. But even in the light, shadows are cast.”

“What have you done to these people?” Casavir demanded, taking a step in front of Sharis, sensing her unease, he attempted to obstruct her from the man’s predatory glare.

“You have strange companions, little sister. Especially this… Knight..?” The man tilted his head which only added to the man’s creepy disposition. Bishop turned to Sharis the moment they heard him give her the title of ‘Sister’.

“He’s your brother?…!” Bishop exclaimed. She couldn’t respond, it can’t be him. Memories of what he used to look like flitted through her memory.  
Their relationship as Brother and Sister was a rocky one. But their relationship turned darker and more aggressive as she grew older. She had always put it down to the death of thier oldest Brother. After that, they always argued. All she would have to do was walk into the room and he’d get infuriated by her presence. Was this him? Was this really her Brother… _Kharn?!_

“Aren’t you going to give your brother a hug?” He reached out for her, taking a few steps towards them, his bony hands appeared from the sleeves of his robes, long claw like nails at the tip of each one. Bishop tensed and raised his bow, Casavir’s armour creaked against the flexing muscles in his arms. She found herself grounded behind her Paladin.  
“Not a fucking chance.” Bishop hissed.

“And who’s this?” Kharn turned his attention to the Ranger. “You pick this one up from some seedy tavern?”

“None of your business.” Bishop snarled.

“Why so quiet little sister? After all these years all you’re going to do is stare? How rude.” Kharn smirked amused.

“Can we just kill this bastard already?” Bishop interrupted. This lead to Kharn breathing an amused laugh. His laugh wasn’t a welcome sound as it sent chills through the air.

 

“You murder these innocent people. Strip them of their dignity and their right to a proper a burial. What do you have to say in your defense?” Casavir spoke, a intimidating rumble in his voice. The man tilted his head, the wicked smile drew tighter in his lips.

“Did you find my little present?” Kharn asked. “The little girl was so sweet to look after it for you. I hope you said thank you?” Sharis stared incredulously at her Brother. It was him?! He gave the necklace to the little girl?!

“So it was you?” Casavir demanded the man’s attention. As much as he probed for Sharis’s, he didn’t like the aura the man was emitting. “You will pay for your crimes, sir.”

“Will I?” Kharn smiled leering up from his lashes. Casavir held his stony glare at the man. Bishop seemed agitated, his eyes locked on his target but she could see different scenarios playing out in his head as he brewed up a plan.

 

She jumped and looked around as the corpses scattered around them began to stir. One by one their eyeless sockets began to glow a bright blue. Her body shivered as each lifeless body began to creak and crack as they began to rise from death pose.  
Her heart galloped in her chest. She hated Draugr. Bishop growled, his finger twitching which held the knocked arrow. “Get behind me, Princess.”  
Kharn’s crooked smile widened, his canines were long and speared, the rest of them were harsh and jagged. As he drew closer it became very clear to the three what exactly they had walked into.

“Vampire.” Casavir growled, his hands gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, his eyes focused on the demon in front of him before he vanished into smoke. “Let’s have some fun.” Kharn’s voice echoed around them.

The corpses all stood to their feet staring lifelessly at the three companions. The air was electric with tension as crippling fear filled Sharis. It became too much for the Ranger to bare and he groaned. “Fuck this.” He sighed, releasing his arrow between the eyes of a gawking cadaver.

   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You never told me you had a brother!” Bishop snapped, firing arrows left and right in the heat of battle. “Or that he was a fucking vampire!”

“Not now Bishop!” Casavir yelled, swinging his sword to take down a small wave of screeching undead. Sharis took the reins on her fear, knowing it was no good – succumbing to fear would only get her killed, she conjured flame runes around them and one by one they triggered, burning the charging corpses to charred bones.  
They tried to stay together, forming a circle they fought back to back. Bishop shot long range while Casavir took down the most, he stayed close to Sharis. His Holy aura weakened them but it didn’t stop them from attacking. A corpse came charging towards them, wearing heavy Dawnguard armour. Impenetrable.

Casavir, seeing the approaching threat. Instinctively used his strength and anchored self to duel the oddity and tackled him, it kept him on his feet but Casavir was forced back against the stone table, breaking their circle. The demon drew it’s blade and forced it down towards his throat. The blade fell into a standstill as Casavir pushed back. Bishop was darting around, slashing close enemies and shooting down one by one as they ran at him. Sharis was busy herself, being mostly a wide range fighter she wasn’t used to close melee combat. She needed to start those lessons with Casavir as soon as she got out of here.  
“FUS RO DAH!” She blasted a swarm of animated bodies into a shattering mess of rotten flesh and bone against the wall.

 _Casavir?_ She looked around to see him surrounded, the corpses piled on him. She gasped and began to run over in panic but was relieved when she saw him kick off the Dawnguard thrall and cleaved his head off with one swing of it’s own blade. The rest were easy pickings as his Paladin abilities made quick work of them.

These draugr were relentless, like a sinking boat that kept filling up no matter how fast you emptied it. The thralls seemed to be coming from the stonework. Her mind was completely scrambled, she hadn’t even come to terms with her brother being alive! Now he was a Vampire?! Now this?! Who were all these people? How many people had he killed? If in fact he had killed them? What did he mean present? Had he been stalking her?!

“Down, Princess!” She heard Bishop yell. She did so without a second thought as a animated corpse fell over her hunched body. A body of what once was a woman. By her size she would have been young… in her teens perhaps. Sharis quickly stepped on the undead’s arm and snatched the knife from her hand, driving it into the blue eye socket. A squelching crunch and it was over.

“I’m sorry.” Sharis ruefully sighed. She stood up and looked over to Casavir who was making his way over to her. The animated carcasses had driven him some distance.

“Sister.” A voice came millimeters away from her ear. It’s familiar sound send a shiver through her. She turned to face the voice and came face to face with her brother, his frightful burning eyes staring at her. She couldn’t move, frozen in fear like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, she couldn’t even bring her lungs to scream.  
Within seconds she was flying through the air.

“My Lady!” She heard Casavir cry out as the battle below flew past in colours, she crashed into something hard. It caved with her weight as debris flew along with her before all went black.

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 

  
She opened her eyes and groaned as pain ran from her head and through her body. She looked around her. The room was dark, large shadows loomed around her. Something warm trickled from her face. She wiped away the wetness to see the crimson liquid painted her entire hand. Blood. She healed herself quickly before pulling herself to her feet, casting her candlelight spell for a source of light.

She needed to catch her bearings. She was in the middle of a fight. Khan’s inhuman eyes seared into her soul and then she was flying. Her companions, _Bishop…. Casavir…. Where are they? Where am I? How do I get out of here?_

“Seven years seems to have changed us so much, wouldn’t you agree?” Kharn’s voice echoed through the cold air. She gasped to catch her breath as it almost leapt from her. _Where did that come from?_ She thought, looking around to find his location.

“Well they’ve certainly changed you!” She replied, attempting to steady herself as her voice trembled.

“You’re one to talk. Dovahkiin.” He responded, his words dripped with sarcasm. She stood silently his words made her recollect on the years gone by. “I always knew you were special. Sis.”

“So this is where you’ve been? All these years you’ve been squatting in this shit hole.” Her voice echoed on every wall that surrounded her. _Keep him talking,_ she thought. If she could just find where he was hiding then she would have a better chance of defending herself against him.

“Shit hole? This is my home.” He hissed, yet he sounded amused.

“Your home?! Is that what you call it?” She scoffed. “What have you been doing here? All them people. Did you kill them?.”

“Yes.”

“Why?!” She exclaimed.

“I got lonely.” He replied so matter of factly, without an ounce of remorse. She fell silent, no words would describe her revulsion by his response. If this truly was her brother, then what the hell happened to him? There was a dense unpleasant feeling in the air. She could feel him watching her but she couldn’t pinpoint where he was.

“I’ve missed you.” His voice whispered echoed.

“Missed me?! You hated me!” She spat, still trying to locate where his voice was coming from.

“I never hated you. I was just… angry.”  She turned around when his voice came from behind her, she scoured around but she couldn’t see anything. Then his voice came again.

“I was angry… I watched you grow up. I watched you turn from a spoilt little brat into a young and… beautiful woman.” She stared into the dark, his response gave her a sense of unease. “I started having feelings for you. Feelings a brother shouldn’t have towards his sister. I wanted you, but I couldn’t have you.”

As the words sunk into her mind she began to feel uncomfortable beyond belief, she gulped hard, her mouth dry. Perhaps she was just hearing him wrong.

“But now I can.” Kharn whispered from behind her, his breath blew gently on the long cinnamon waves. .

“WULD!” She shot to the other side of the room, pressing her back against the wall as she gaped at the place where she once stood. A pair of fiery eyes appeared from the blackness, the same prickling chill slithered up her back as fear gripped her again.  
He resembled her brother – in some ways. But in others he looked nothing like him. She remembered Kharn having short shaggy hair, much like Bishop’s only Khan’s was slightly longer and a different shade of brown, now it was just a long matted mess. Kharn had always been slightly taller than her and not as muscular as their eldest brother Phandel. But now he lacked any muscle tone. His robes hung loosely to his body, making him look smaller and severely malnourished.  
He breathed a nasally chuckle. In a blink of an eye he vapourised into smoke, and before she knew it he appeared again inches from her face. His long bony fingers were deathly cold as they touched her cheek. Fear pinned her body to the wall. Her eyes stared at the toothy grin of jagged razor sharp gnashers before her.

“Father thought my fixation with you was unacceptable.” He purred contritely, his fiery eyes scoured her face, somehow they seemed to soften. “But how could he possibly understand.” His line of sight working it’s way down her body. She shuffled uncomfortably, her heart thumped frantically in her chest.

“But dear Mother and father are dead now. And here you are – with me.” Her panicked mind focused on his words. _He knew? He knew they were dead?_

“H-how did you?…!” She questioned, her eyes wide as her brow furrowed in confusion.

“I’m the one who killed them.” He grinned wickedly.

She shook her head, she wouldn’t believe this. “No, no. T-the bandits. The bandits were the ones tha-”

“I sent them. And I paid them very well.” Her mind shattered into a thousand pieces at that moment. She was well and truly lost, he must be mistaken… He wouldn’t… would he? Judging by his state; she somehow wouldn’t put it past him. Her eyes glazed over as the memory of that day came flooding back. The bandits, the fight, the discovery of their bodies. Kharn… all this time! It was Kharn?!

“Your fear smells delicious.” He laughed. A long black tongue slipped from between his thin cracked lips and licked the blood running down her cheek. He groaned in pleasure as a shiver ran over him.  
Utter disgust filled her quickly. She hated being cornered, even more so that she was afraid. The confession sunk into her mind and it angered her to the point of eruption. She lifted her foot and kicked him away from her as hard as she could. Her hand reached for the dagger at her belt and swiped it towards him drawing blood from his chest. Crashing to the floor he looked at his wound and smiled, looking at her again and then to the blade in her hand.

“Mother’s dagger.” He laughed.

“That better be a fucking joke!” She snarled, her hand shaking as it gripped the blade with white knuckles. The look in his callous eyes told her the truth, he had done it. He appeared to be proud of himself. She wasn’t sure what to do, she wanted to hurt him, maybe even kill him! But being blood related made this a difficult fight. “You fucking scum! How could you!?”  
He quickly got to his feet and laughed. “I was told she squealed like a stuck pig when they flayed her alive.”

Sharis screamed in anger as she felt her restraints snap. Like a wild animal she threw destruction spells everywhere, in hopes to hit him as her brother disintegrated into black fog and materialized to evade her attacks. He darted quickly out of the way of every spell, laughing loudly at her anger fueled attacks.

“You never could control your temper.” He sniggered.

“I spent months hunting down those bastards. One by one I burnt them alive! How could you?!”

“They were irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant?!” She yelled. Her words beginning to strangle her. “THAT was our family! YOUR flesh and blood!”  
Kharn flew out of the dark and threw her against the wall. She fell to her hands and knees, winded. Before she could even proceed to pick herself back up, something grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the damp cold floor. Burning eyes scotched into hers.

“They were irrelevant; I wanted you, but then they sent you away!” He hissed.

“You bastard.” She spat. His grip around her neck grew tighter as pressed her other hand wielding the blade above her head.

“Mummy and daddy were sooo clever to send you away. But they can’t protect you now, Sharis. You’re mine.” Kharn licked his bottom lip, his mouth salivating with the hunger to sink his fangs into her.

 

“My lady!” Casavir’s cry whispered into the room. Kharn paused, his eyes fixed on her but her’s stared through him, she didn’t dare move her face encase it exposed her neck.

“You’re boyfriend?” Kharn purred snidely. He breathed in sharply through his teeth, taking in the air; almost like he was tasting it. “I wonder if he tastes as good as he smells?… sweat.”

 _He can smell him?_ She thought. His eyes met hers again, he descended slowly towards her face, a wicked jagged grin on his lips. “You smell sweet too, but more floral in a way – like elder-flowers and lavender. Tell me sis… do you still play with lavender stems like you did when we were kids?”

“Stop calling me SIS!” She roared angrily at him, her free hand grabbed his long sloven hair and gripped hard. He cried out angrily and gripped her harder but she shot out an electric pulse which shook him. She took the chance while his grip loosened from her throat to get him off for good.

“FUS RO DAH!!” She boomed; his body flew high into the air. She quickly jumped to her feet, collecting the damp stale water that pooled on the floor, she bent it to her will and conformed it into a long spear which she fired towards him. He didn’t go far until he yet again evaporated into smoke and flew to the safety of the shadows; completely evading another of her attacks.

“You like this knight. Has he picked your flower yet? Or is that still ripe for the taking?” Kharn teased.

“SHUT UP!” She barked furiously, warding herself from the shattered debris from the ice spear. She knew what he was doing, it was always one thing she would remember about him. He always jabbed and tested her patience; took gratification in making his siblings angry. His odious laugh sparked her anger more but it’s lewdish manner made her feel awkward.

“Let’s play a little game… For old times sake, hm?” He teased. “Let’s see who can get to your Knight first. Ready, steady… go!” A gush of wind whipped through her hair as a shadow flew past her and into the corridor.

_No! Casavir!_

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She was running through the labyrinth of corridors before she knew it. She needed to find Casavir before Kharn, she couldn’t let Kharn hurt him. She already lost her family, she couldn’t lose her Paladin.

“Casavir!!” She called, praying he’d hear her through these endless halls. All these damn walls looked the same. She was rushing so fast she got herself tangled in a thick netting of an ancient spider web. She wriggled free as best she could. A sound met her which made her freeze for a moment.

“My lady!” It was Casavir.

“Casavir! I’m over here!” She cried yanking herself free and continuing to run in the direction of his voice. Her breath began to labour and the walls around her felt like they were closing in on her. _Where are you Cas?_

“Shaarrrris.” Kharn’s voice taunted her. “I can smell your fear…” Her heart pounded in her ears. She didn’t know where she was running to, but she just needed to find her Paladin; and she needed to be quick about it.  
“CAS! CAS! CA-!”

   
“Sharis! There you are.”  Casavir appeared at the end of the corridor before her. A wave of relief washed over her; She had never been so happy to see him. “Oh Cas.” She ran to him and jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck to squeeze him close.

“Are you alright?” He asked his hands gripped around her waist. She was rather surprised Casavir was holding her in such an affectionate manner. She blew it off, he was just overcome with relief to see her again. She nodded, tears threatening to spill. “I am now.” She cooed.

“Where’s Bishop?” She asked. Releasing him again to land on her feet. She rubbed her cheek, it was cold where it had touched his.

“He went ahead. Come, We found a way out.” He took her hand and proceeded to lead her down a hall. She pulled back.

“No, no. It only leads deeper down.” She pulled.

“There’s another passage leading out.” He gripped her hand. She shook her head. “But why can’t we go back? Kharn may be waiting for us down there!”

“The walls collapsed, there’s no way past the rubble.” He responded. She pulled him back away from where he was heading. She didn’t want Kharn anywhere near him; if he hurt… she couldn’t even bare to think it. Casavir stepped closer his other hand cupped her face as he gazed intently into her eyes. Her heart swelled as his boldness entranced her.

“Don’t you trust me?” He asked softly. She gazed into his blue eyes. His eyes filled with charm bliss. She nodded, bewitched by him. Her soul fluttered as his thumb caressed her cheek. He smiled and removed his hand from her face as he began to lead her down a corridor.

Just then. Something moving caught the corner of her eyes, a figure, wearing dark attire, she panicked, was it Kharn? But then another figure appeared. The other wearing something that sparkled against the torch in his hand.  
“Princess!” Bishop yelled. She turned to look at him as he stood at the other end of the corridor. Stood next to a man wearing strange plated armour – Casavir….

She stared for a moment, while her mind ticked over. _If Casavir is over there… then… who’s holding my hand…..?_

  
An awful feeling welled inside her as she realised something was VERY wrong. She looked back at the Paladin who was holding her hand only to see a face that struck fear into her.

Casavir’s face was cracking away like aged clay. His skin pale as snow as his small piercing eyes, burning like the fires of oblivion, staring right at her. She gasped as she tried to pull away but the grip tightened around her hand so hard she cried out in pain.

Fear gripped her as his jaw opened wide, long fangs and jagged teeth appeared from the black hole that was his mouth.  
Everything seemed to slow as all she could hear was her own quivering breath. He lunged at her, slamming her against the wall at such a force she became disorientated as he let out an shrilling roar.

“SIS!” She heard him hiss. His other hand gripped her locks and wrenched her head to the side, fully exposing her neck. She watched as her friends began to run towards her. Sheer panic written on their faces.  
A sharp immense pain plunged into her neck; like a thousand knives being stabbed into her all at once. The pain was so great her body forgot how to breath, tears leaked from her wide frightened eyes as a scream ripped through her. His jaws so powerful she could feel them threatening to bite her in two.

 

“MY LADY!” Casavir voice thundered down the hall. The Paladin was running to her aid. A glowing light rippled around him like soft flames of a hearth. _So beautiful,_ she thought. Her hand reaching out for him; Her fear left her along with the blood she felt being drawn from her body.

Suddenly Kharn jaws released her as he recoiled away from her, screaming. Two arrows, both shone with a glittering light stuck in his side as she cowered back.  
Casavir’s fist crashed into Kharn’s face, he cried out and fell back against the stone and Casavir followed him with a clatter.

“Bishop! Get her out of her!” Casavir yelled. Her eyes were heavy, she felt herself being lifted into someone’s arms. _Casavir,_ she tried to reach for him but she was moving further away from the knight wrangling with a screaming demonic beast.

“C’mon Princess, stay with me.” Bishop huffed.  
Lights flashed past her. Her body began to ache painfully and the walls began to fade into nothing. Howling laughs and listless groans penetrated her perception. She could feel herself sinking, something drawing her into the dark as the groaning and contorted laughter grew louder. It frightened her, she opened her eyes but all she saw was demonic… beings swarmed around her.  
Shutting her eyes tightly again, she cried out and thrashed around in a panicked attempt to bat them away.

 

“Woah, Woah. Agh! Princess chill out! What’s wrong?” Bishop’s voice came out of the black.

“Bishop! Help! I can’t…!” She tried to call out but the words turned to crying wails. Something gripped her, in fright she lashed out, it was soft like flesh. She knew it was Bishop, but her body grew it’s own conscience as it clawed at him.

“Ey, Sharis! Calm down!” Bishop yelped. She felt wetness against her fingers. She screamed as she sunk in the black hole. The unworldly beings around her showed her images of things that terrified her. Images she couldn’t bare to see, she was helpless as all the could do was observe them. She didn’t know what to do. _Someone help me please!_

Just then. She noticed a gentle glow in the distance. She stared at the foreign apparition, it started small, delicate and faint but then it grew brighter, larger. She was mesmerized by the light at first but as it grew, it began to burn. She found herself cowering from it.

“What’s happening to her?” Bishops voice echoed in her mind.

“She’s changing.” Casavir replied. _Cas? CAS!_

“You mean into a…?” Bishop exclaimed. “Does it happen so quickly?”

“It depends on the potency. My lady? Can you hear me?” Casavir’s voice was so comforting for her, the images they were showing her were terrifying, she needed him. The way he help the little girl at Ivarstead.

 

“CASAVIR! WHERE ARE YOU?!” She cried. All that came from her lips was more screaming. She couldn’t communicate with them. The light touched her face. So tender yet strong. As it did, it felt as though someone was branding her with a white hot poker. She pulled away but the light held her steady. She lashed out to push the burning entity away from her but it was useless.

“Bishop hold her!” Casavir shouted. Strong hands grabbed her wrists. Another scream ripped through her. The burning light felt like she had been thrown into the flames of a forge. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The light burnt into her core, but the darkness terrified her.

“It’s not working!” Bishop barked.

“Yes it is. Just hold her steady.” Casavir’s rich voice came again.  
She let out another scream as the light began to engulf her, the heat so intense she felt like she would turn to ash. But then it ebbed, the burning faded to a enrapturing warmth. The dark demonic shadows and unworldly noises fled as the enfolding light caressed her.

She dared open her eyes, the light faded, forming to the shape of a being. Colours returned to the world around her and the light began to dwindle into the shape of a man before her. His blue eyes stared solicitously into hers.

“My lady?” Casavir’s spoke to tenderly. His voice resonated around her. His calm pools promised warmth and security. Yet they stared at her with worry. Sweat glistened on his face along with smearing trickles of blood and scratches.

“Cas?” She breathed weakly.  
Casavir gave a heavy yet relieved sigh. It was then she realised his hand was touching her face, again. It slid from her temple to her jaw,  his thumb followed to her cheek as it had been pressed between her brows.

“Can I let her go now?” Bishop asked. Casavir nodded, his other hands rested on her shoulder to support her in her lethargic state. She looked inert at her surroundings. She was outside, she had no recollection of how she got there but she knew someone carried her.

“How do you feel, My lady?” Casavir asked tenderly.  
She didn’t respond but just looked weakly around her. Casavir began to rummage in his back pocket, soft tinkling of glass sounded and then he presented her with a small green vile.

“Here, take this.” Casavir popped the cork off and placed it carefully in her hands.

“Where’s Kharn?” She asked, gripping his pauldron. Bishop looked at Casavir. Casavir looked at Bishop. They both looked at her before Casavir spoke. “I’m sorry, my lady. I’m afraid I had to put an end to him.”

“Good.” She replied shakily. Her response surprised the two men as she tried to pull herself to her feet. The moment she stood the world spun and the earth felt as though someone pulled it from under her. She felt herself falling, but she didn’t land. Strong armoured arms held her, Casavir. His blue eyes scoured her features the way a lover tends to their sick partner. She wanted to reach up as touch his face, but she was so weak and she felt her body succumbing to healing slumber.

“Riften isn’t far from here. I think we all need a warm bed and a hot meal.” Bishop said as he walked over to the horses and brought Casavir’s white stallion to them. “She can ride with you, I’ll take Allie.”

“I think that would be best.” Casavir nodded, bridally scooping her up into his arms and walked towards a large rock. Bishop brought the horse and left it stood by the rock and he hopped up reached out for her.

 

“Watch her head.” Casavir warned carefully.

“I know how to hold a woman, Paladin.”

“Jus- nevermind.” Casavir replied as he left to mount his horse; once he and his horse was settled, Bishop handed her back over and sat her in front of him on the saddle. She sat at an angle, both feet dangled from one side of his horse while her back rested against his arm.  
She impulsively nestled into the crook of his arm, resting her head against his chest. The muffled rhythmic thump of his steady heartbeat under his chestplate eased her. She gave a wavering sigh and shut her tired eyes, she was safe. Safe in the waves of Casavir. Once Bishop was ready, they set off for Riften.

 

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
   
 _She smiled broadly, jumping off the merchant’s cart as she slung her bag on her back._  
 _“Thank you!” She waved to the driver as she headed up the beaten path towards her family home. Her home was hidden within the woodland, strange to have a lumber mill so far away from the road but her father managed to transport the goods easily enough._  
 _She couldn’t see the chimney smoke in the distance, her mother mustn’t have started dinner yet… strange… it’s midday. She picked up speed as she came into the clearing and stood before the stone bricked walls and thatched roofed cottage._

_“I’m home.” She smiled, breathing in the moist woodland air. It had been two years since she had seen her family. Mother, Father, Gran, Uncle Flin and her Aunt Nals’e. It had been a while since she had heard from them, perhaps the couriers were loosing her letters..?_   
_She looked around her, Father wasn’t working on the mill… strange. Perhaps he was inside having a break? It was rather warm that day. With not another moment wasted she boldly strode over to the front door of her family home. She couldn’t wait to see everyone! She had learnt so much at the Mages college and so keen to show off her skills._

 

_“Hell-looo!” She skipped through the front door with a smile reaching from ear to ear. It soon fell when she saw a group of roguish looking men sat at the family table. They stared at her – she stared at them._

_“Oh…” She said awkwardly. Completely confused, had she got the wrong mill? Or had Father been letting travelers help him on the mill again._

_“Err, Hi!… Are you guys working for my old man?” She jested nervously. They continued to stare at her, one of them mumbled something she didn’t quite hear. Her eyes went straight to their hands as one reached for a blood stained mace attached to his belt. She took a step back slowly, still holding onto the handle of the door she began to back up outside as the others slowly reached for their weapons. And one by one began to stand._

_“Well, well. What’s this?” A brutish thick accented voice made her jump as rough hands grabbed her from behind and shoved her back inside._

_“Let me go!” She yowled as they pinned her to the wall. A orcish sword silenced her as it pressed against her throat._

_“You think this is her?” One asked as he eyed her. “She matches the description.”_

_“Yeah, it’s her alright.” An Orc sniggered._

_“Where are my parents?” She asked sternly, careful not to say too much as the blade threatened to cut into her neck._

_“Ha! It’s her alright!” Another guffawed. “There’s someone who’s dying to see you, Sharis.”_   
_She gasped as they grabbed her crudely turned her to face the wall, they grabbed her hands and attempted to tie them together._

 

_“I’ve never fucked a Breton before.” The Orc stated._   
_“I bet she’s never had Orc.” Another laughed. The Orc laughed along with him before he added. “Take off her trews, I’ll give her a good porkin.”_

_She didn’t delay a second as she whipped her hands free from the badly binding restraints and slapped the closest man hard in the face with a Paralysis spell. She darted for the still open door as the rest gave chase. Once outside she had not restraints from using her abilities._

 

_“Where is my family!” She yelled, flames flickered in her hands. She knew something wasn’t right. She wouldn’t run, this was her home. If these thugs had her kin held captive then she would not hesitate to save them._

_“Get the bitch!” The Orc roared, charging towards her brandishing his weapon. She knew she would get no answers from these guys. She had no choice but to put her abilities into real action._

 

_She fell to her knees, exhausted. Drained of magicka and bleeding from wounds she sustained. Tears stung her eyes as a painful lump lodged in her throat. She shakily rose to her feet looking around her; she’d never had to kill before! But what choice did she have?_   
_She pulled herself together and staggered past the charred bones and ash piles of her attackers and headed back inside for her bag where she dropped it. She rummaged through it for her health potions, she flinched when something sharp stabbed her fingers. Glass, the vials must have smashed when her bag hit the floor._   
_She remembered her mother kept stocks of ingredients in the basement to make salves and remedies when someone had an accident on the mill or fell sick in the home. She pulled herself up and headed for the basement._

_The moment she opened the door she was hit by a wall of smell. She gagged, uncontrollably wrenches made her body curl. She covered her nose quickly with her scarf, what was down there? It smelt like the time her Uncle Flin attempted to dry some venison – he never was a good cook, even if he was a Breton._

_She suddenly got an awful feeling, it ran through her body like an icy chill and made her want to turn and run…._

 

_What was down there….?_

 

_She couldn’t turn back now, she needed some ingredients of fresh supplies to heal herself and she needed to find her parents._   
_“Hello? Anyone down there?” She called shakily, she waited patiently for a response but when one did not come she knew she had to investigate._

_She took a deep breath through her mouth and shakily headed down the stairs, her eyes fixed to the ground. The smell grew so overpowering she could almost taste it. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she felt as though she was about to hurl up her guts – if they weren’t in painful knots._

_Something in her peripheral was begging her to look, yet she was too afraid. Buzzing of flies hummed in her ears, her scarf pressed firmly over her nose and mouth, she shut her eyes tightly. Damn her curious mind, an utter curse. She lifted her head up and faced whatever it was that was beckoning her to look at it._

   
 _… One…_

   
 _… Two…_

   
 _… Three…_

   
 _Slowly, her lids peeled back for her to look at it. Ounce she could make out what she was looking at, her heart stopped. Her body drained of all cognitive thought, leaving nothing but a shell. She fell to her knees, her body vacantly staring up at the sight before her._  
 _…She had found them…_

   
 _Shock stunned her, she stared at them as her body began to shut down, leaving her a prisoner inside herself._

_Then disbelief, this had to be a trick… an illusion… ? Tears fell down her cheeks as she choke on her whimpering sobs._

_A scream tore through her as she fell into a sobbing mess. She didn’t know how long she stayed like that… til her tears ran dry; Her whole body shook as it began to thaw itself._   
_“Sharis.” A familiar voice called softly behind her. She turned to see her Brother, Kharn stood over her staring at her with his burning eyes. A wide crooked grin leered down at her. She tried to jump to her feet and run but he pulled her back, staring menacingly into her eyes before he turned her violently to face a dark familiar cavern. In the centre, knelt on his knees sprawled in chains was a man, she recognized him immediately as her Casavir, battered and bloody his head wearily lifted to face her._

_“Casavir!” She cried, trying to break free from her Brother’s harsh grip. Something large and scaly uncoiled itself behind him Casavir. Wings as black as night outstretched themselves wide as a horned black head materialized behind him. Blood red eyes shone brightly as flames flickered in it’s jaws._

_“No, No Please!” She cried out, trying to break free from her brother who was sniggering with amusement._   
_“Yol, tor shul!” The black scaled beast spoke, breathing scorching flames that engulfed her Casavir._

_His screams in pain pierced the sound waves, she too began to scream for him, she was helpless to save him. His flesh crackling and seering away until there was just bone._

  
_“No, CASAVIR! CAAASSS!”_


	19. I hate goodbye's

 

She bolted upright in her bed. An ear splitting screech rang in her ears.

“Woa- woah. Easy princess. It’s alright.” Bishop soothed, gripping her shoulders and holding her steady. Her eyes snapped up to Bishop’s as he sat beside her on the bed and was staring at her with a strange worried expression. She gulped hard, panting to catch her breath. Smothered in cold sweat, she trembled under Bishop’s fingers as she began to calm herself.

“It’s only a dream, calm down.” Bishop stared at her, looking for anymore sign of distress, when he was comfortable with her calming state, He let go and reached over to the side table for the water skin that was sat there.

 

“Where’s Casavir?” She asked when she noticed he was not with them. Bishop’s face screwed up in annoyance for a moment before returning neutral.

“I sent him out for some fresh supplies.” Bishop answered. “Here. Drink.”

She clutched onto the waterskin in her shaking hands. The raw dream still mulling over in her mind. She stared vacantly at the waterskin in her hands, not sure what to do. She shakily and raised the tip to her lips. First, just a small sip; but that one sip made her realise just how dehydrated she really was. She was downing its contents in large urgent gulps, within seconds she had emptied the entire waterskin.

 

Her body still suffering with the shakes as her dream played over and over in her mind. The sight of Casavir, so vulnerable and exposed, burning before her eyes. She quickly shut them tight to hold back the fresh sting of tears and the dull ache in her throat.

“What were you dreaming about? Your screaming silenced all them tossers downstairs!” Bishop jabbed. Unknowingly pulling her out of her thoughts.

“I was screaming?” She swallowed. Bishops amber eyes narrowed as he sternly nodded.

 

“People are gonna think I’m murdering you with all the wailing you were doing.” He said, walking over to the table and popping the cork of a bottle of Hammerfell whisky. He poured a little into a cup and handed it to her. The sweet potent smell stung her nostrils when she inhaled it, she winched away for a moment as she considered to drink it. But she accepted it. Perhaps it would steady her nerves?

 

“Sorry.” She said. Raising to cup to her lips, she quickly shot it back and swallowed it in one gulp but was quickly coughing violently as its strong taste burnt it’s way down to her stomach.

“Ha, you're supposed to sip it, Ladyship.” Bishop chuckled as he sipped it from the bottle. She looked at her feet when she became aware of something weighing them down; and was met with Karnwyr’s golden eyes. He reared his head and whimpered happily, dragging his belly along the sheets as he made his way to the bed to greet her. With a soft affectionate growl, he licked her face and nuzzled his snout against her neck and her cheek.

“He hasn’t left your side.” Bishop added as he came to sit back on the bed.

“He’s a good friend.” She said, returning Karnwyr’s affection by turning her face into the thick black mane of his neck.

“So, you gonna tell me what had you howling yourself awake?” Bishop pressed, pouring some more whisky into her cup. She dipped her head, hiding her face from him.

“Just bad memories.” She murmured. Bishop didn’t ask anymore, the room was strangely at peace, only the sounds of the drunks singing lively downstairs about a fisherman’s wife.

 

She cautiously looked around the room. She was warm, comfortably nestled into the furs of a soft warm bed. A thick scent of wood floated in the air. She knew the smell of this town, the air coming in from the open window was moist and earthy, with a distinctive smell of damp. She was in Riften.

 

The wooden walls loomed with shadows that the candlelight was casting. Dark grey clouds blackened the sky outside making it difficult to determine what time of day it was. Her disorganised bits of armour pieces were sat in a chest next to a small table alongside her bag.

 

This brought to her attention what she was wearing. Still wearing her mages gi, with brown stained blood on from her collar to her breast.

“The Paladin, wouldn’t let me strip that off you - and he’s too prude to even dare.” Bishop grunted. She gently pulled the blood stained collar back and pressed her fingers where Kharn had bitten. It was smooth, she expected to feel the indent of a scar or wince as she touched a tender wound, but there was nothing. She would have been mistaken to think it was all a dream but the dried blood on her gi showed otherwise.

“He patched you up pretty good, though! Not even a scar.” Bishop said as he sipped on his whisky. She noted her hair braided back into a long single, finely weaved plait. She curiously took it in her hand and ran her hand along the length of the tightly knit braid. She heard Bishop chuckle. “That’s my handiwork.” Bishop smiled proudly.

 

A thick finely made cloak blanketed her legs. She recognised the cloak to be the Paladin’s immediately. Her hand ran along the fine thick fabric and somehow she felt comforted knowing she had a piece of him with her - even if he wasn’t.

 

“He’ll be back soon.” Bishop took another sip of the whisky, sucking air sharply through his teeth to endure the sharp taste. He must have noticed the nostalgic expression on her face while she was marveling the cloak, she quickly put both hands on the cup and nodded sheepishly.

 

“How long have I been asleep? I... don’t remember getting here.” She asked. Scouring through her memory for any recollection if arriving in Riften. The last thing she remembered was being nestled against Casavir and listening to the steady thump of his heart.

 

“Three days. You've been asleep since we left the ruin.” Bishop replied. She turned to him as her brows furrowed,  _ three days?! _

Bishop knew what she was thinking and just nodded to confirm. She was suddenly brought to the attention of her stomach as Karnwyr clumsily pressed against it.  

 

“I need to pee.” She stated, immediately pushing Karnwyr away and throwing the cloak off her legs. Bishop stood up and grabbed her arm helping her to stand. She was drowsy and her balance was disgraceful but she clung to Bishop as he escorted her to the wash room before leaving her at the door.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Casavir hurried back into the bustling tavern filled with locals and merry makers. He had left the inn with clear skies and hadn't expected rain; he was drenched. Skyrim weather was unpredictable and could change within minutes.  

 

He headed straight up the stairs giving an acknowledging nod of his head to Keerava as he ascended to the sleeping quarters.

The moment he stepped foot in the room his eyes went straight to the bed where she had been resting for the past three days. He paused misstep when he saw her bed was empty. Bishop sat at the table tweaking the string in his bow.

 

“She's awake…?” Casavir spoke in disbelief. His heart began to flutter with the thought of seeing her conscious face again, he missed her so much.

 

Bishop grunted. “She just woke up.”

 

“Well where is she?! You haven't let her go out by herself have you?” Casavir stepped fully into the room and put his new supplies down.

 

“Pipe down. She’s gone to the privy.” Bishop replied, he sounded irked at having to respond to the Paladin. Bishop rose from his seat and turned to face Casavir. They stood facing one another an awkward silence filled the room.

 

“I’m leaving.” Bishop flatly declared.

 

“W- what?” Casavir thought he misheard him. “... You’re leaving?”

 

Bishop nodded with a grunt.

 

“Why?”

 

“...Do I really have to answer that?”

 

“But she needs us, Bishop!” Casavir couldn't believe he was saying this, something in him had changed towards the Ranger. He once had great loathing for the man but now he had a sense of understanding and some degree of respect for Bishop.

 

“She doesn't need us. She needs YOU.” Bishop snapped. Casavir stared at the Ranger, completely taken back by his sudden change of demeanor.

 

“She was calling for you in her sleep. She woke up screaming. And… you wanna know what her first words were when she woke up?” Bishop stepped forward, his arms folded across his chest. Casavir continued to stare at Bishop, mulling over in his mind whether he wished to know.

 

“Where’s Casavir?” Bishop recited Sharis’s words to him.

 

“It… could have been a bad dream…?” Casavir swallowed the hard lump in his throat. His face showed no expression as he registered Bishop’s words.

 

“Yeh. It was. But she came back for you. We got all the way to Riverwood to find who stole that stupid horn and she wanted to go all the way back to Solitude just to get you.”

Casavir stood silent as Bishops eyes bore at him. He wasn't sure on whether he felt uncomfortable with his stare or the words that were leaving his mouth.

 

“You can hide behind your armour and you stupid little oath all you want, Paladin. But we both know what’s happening here.” Bishop spoke, Casavir began to fidget in his wet clothes, trickles of rain from his hair was beginning to run down his back.

 

“... You love her.” Bishop stated. Casavir’s jaw began to tense.

 

“I only wish to protect her.” Casavir replied guardedly.

 

“You can't protect her from everything, Paladin. She's the fucking Dragonborn! But the question is… WHAT are you protecting her from?”

 

“Anything that could to harm her.” Casavir replied sternly.

 

“And do you wish to harm her?”

 

“I would never hurt her!” Casavir growled, his eyes turned dark. “How dare you insinuate that I would…”

“Bah! You Knights are always so fucking difficult. You're like lost Lil brats.” Bishop waved his hand in the air as to smack away the conversation. He turned to stuff his arrows into his quiver and tossed them over to his bed before rummaging through his bag to find his whetstone to sharpen his knife.

  
  


“Just… don't say anything… alright?” Bishop focused on the blade in his hands, neither could truly look at one another at that moment.

 

“Well... What do you want me to say when she realises you're gone?”

 

“Whatever you want. But don’t say anything until then, right?”

 

Casavir stared at Bishop, his brows knitting together slowly as he thought over what Bishop had said. He sighed and blinked slowly.

 

“When are you leaving?”

 

“Tonight, when she’s…” Bishop paused. The gentle creak of the door behind Casavir brought their conversation to a close. The two men stopped and turned to see the little Dragonborn step apprehensively into the room.  She was still dressed in her old robes and her hair was no longer in it’s braid. She paused at the door, looking over at the two men with a slight inquisitive disposition.

 

Casavir fell silent as he stared, lost in a sea of emotions. She in return stared at her Paladin, a tightness grew in her chest and she swallowed a hard lump in her throat. She could feel the tears threatening to break the dam. After seeing him in such a horrendous way, all she wanted to do was run over and hold him tight. But she couldn’t - that would be improper.

  
  


“.....My lady.... It’s so good to see you awake! How... how are you feeling?” He finally managed to speak, turning to give her his undivided attention. A huge part of him wanted to run to her and hold her against him, he’d missed those beautiful eyes. However, he knew it would be improper to be so bold. including the fact that he was soaked to the bone, pulling her into him would not be a very pleasant experience.

 

“OK, I guess. I need to get my bag. Talen is fetching some water for a bath.” She said stepping further into the room. Casavir nodded and immediately went to fetch her things. He didn’t need to, she was only a stone throw away from it but him being the gentleman he was, he wanted to help her anyway he could.

 

“Thank you.” She smiled softly.

 

“Will you need anything else? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He asked dotingly.

 

“Both.” She replied with a smirk. Casavir nodded as he handed her the bag, his eyes fell to her dainty hands as they took it from him.

 

“I’ll go get the grub then.” Bishop said as he began to leave the room, whistling for Karnwyr to follow. It was just the two of them now, alone together.

 

The silence was eating away at Casavir, he wanted to say so much. He’d felt responsible for the events that unfolded at the ruin. He’d shed so many silent tears when he was alone at her bedside, pined for her like a lost puppy as she rested for those agonising three days. He prayed to the Gods to speed her healing so he could see her gaze up at him once again.

 

He was rather disheartened that he had not been there to see her wake, after the endless hours he had spent by her bedside - she had to wake when Bishop convinced him to go out and get some supplies? Oh the irony.

  
  


“Are you OK?” Her voice made him practically jump to attention. Her forest green eyes with glittering gold gazed up at him with concern. “You look…”

 

“Wet?” He breathed a nervous chuckle. She smiled and shook her head. “I was going to say peaky.” She shyly reached up and pressed her hand against him brow. Her delicate touch held such power against him as he felt he would fall to his knees. He didn’t know what do when his eyes welled with sting of fresh tears.

It was true, he was feeling a little worse for wear. The sleepless nights of guilt ate away at him but seeing her finally awake gave him the boost he needed.

  
  


“I have not been on good terms with sleep these past few nights, my lady.” He confessed. She grimaced slightly with confession but her angelic smile returned.

 

“Why?” She asked. He dropped his head with a heavy sigh. She frowned, curious and concerned for her friend she dropped her bag at her feet and took his hands.

“Talk to me.” She pressed softly. “Please?”

 

He swallowed hard, he felt like he'd been punched in the throat as he tried to speak, his eyes stung with crystal tears and he tried so hard to halt them. But he felt one escape down his cheek.

“It was my fault. My lady, I am so sorry. I...I should never have allowed you to follow me into that place. I was so careless and in doing so I put you in danger... Please forgive me...?”

 

“No, Casavir. It’s not your fault! I chose to go in there with you. I would have died if you weren't there for me.” She said firmly. She spotted the glistening droplet running down his face. She felt her stomach turn at the thought he was hurting himself.

She reached up to his face, her hand gently held his cheek, wiping away his tear. He flinched a little; like a poor creature who’s never had an ounce of kindness in their existence. He glanced over at her timidly, he seemed nervous of her touch but in his eyes she saw a yearning for her hand to remain. Her thumb brushed another tear that leaked down his cheek.

 

He sighed shakily as he relaxed slowly into her touch, her hand so gentle it was like heavens blessing. He shut his eyes tight to stop anymore tears from spilling.

 

_ Gods man, pull yourself together. _ He scolded himself. He didn't want to cry, he couldn’t - wouldn't allow it!

 

“You saved me, Cas.” Her hand reached back and ran through his waterlogged hair and cupped the back of his neck. His eyes snapped open as the euphoric sensation of her hand overwhelmed him. He gulped hard as she stepped closer to him, disregarding his personal space. His heart began to race and jaw slacked, her eyes looked hungry, a craving he thought he'd never see again.

 

_ What is she doing? Is she going to…? _ Being such a small little creature she couldn't reach up to him without giving a sharp bounce and hooking herself around him.

He felt his heart thunder in his chest like drums. He thought for a second she was going to kiss him, he'd only seen that look in her eyes once before. Ivarstead… only that night felt like a dream, he knew it wasn't. He wish it had been a dream so he could have kissed her with as much firey passion as he desired.

 

“M-my lady. I'm wet…” Casavir grunted nervously, lowering himself down to her level as she nestled into him.

"That's what she said." She jested. He breathed another nervous laugh at her soft crude joke. “I don't care.” She shooed away his excuse and enjoyed the embrace. She held on tightly, waiting for him to respond, it wasn't long before he did. She sighed sweetly as she felt his arms around her middle, gently squeezing her close.

 

After a while she let go to look at him once again but he pulled her back before she could even make a gap.

 

“...One moment. Please?” He whispered, his voice sounded strangled in his throat. The voice of a man restraining a sob, hearing such a sound brought the tears she had tried to contain spilling from her eyes. She clung tighter to him as he firmly wrapped his arms around her.

She had missed him so much, his large solid form was so comforting and secure. She would give him a moment, minute, hour, a day or two… no, she would give him forever. She would gladly hold him like this forever. His warm scent filled her senses, sandalwood and fresh soap. He didn't carry the nose tickling smell of oil he used to clean his armour so she knew he hadn't been wearing it.

  
  


His arms began to loosen from around her, she drew back hoping to get a look at the teary blue eyed beauty but he averted himself and wiped his face quickly. “My apologies, my lady. I…”

 

“It’s ok, really. It is!” She smiled, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I prefer you this way. You're more human.”

 

Casavir laughed nervously as he nodded his head. “Thank you.”

 

Casavir took a step back and turned away from her, it surprised her for a moment but when she heard Karnwyr’s patting paws on the wooden floor she understood why. Bishop came in shortly after and placed a plate of meat pie and vegetables on the table.

 

“Talen says your bath is ready, Princess.” Bishop announced as he picked up his bottle of Whisky and pushed Karnwyr’s curious nose away from the food. She nodded and picked up her bag before heading for the bath.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sat in the bathtub with the sounds of rippling bath water and the muffled singing from the the locals downstairs to comfort her, she stared out lifelessly and fell into her wandering thoughts.

 

Her Brave Paladin. Why was he torturing himself so much? How warm and comforting it had been to hold him so close, the warmth of his skin against her hand and the gentle yet unyielding embrace he gave when he tried to hide his tears. She had dreamt of moments like that, to have that connection with him. It felt so right! But she knew all too well she shouldn’t be thinking that way. He was a Paladin. Her Paladin…  _ My Paladin… My Cassie…. _

 

Once she had washed, she dressed into a fresh pair of trousers and a… Very baggy tunic….? _What the!...? Why is this so baggy? Have I lost weight?_ She thought. No, her trousers were still snug. Then she looked at it properly. It wasn’t her tunic. It was too big to be Bishop’s but she knew it would fit someone else… Her stomach began to do somersaults and her cheeks flushed. _This is Casavir’s!_ _He must have tried to do my washing_ , she thought with a huge grin. She bit her lip and giggled like a milk maid.

 

“I’m wearing Cassie’s clothes.” She beamed, staring at herself in the polished metal mirror. She had never seen herself so fresh faced! Perhaps she needed those three days of sleep? She stared back at the woman looking at her in the mirror. Her face may have been glowing but her eyes told another story, there was a shadow looming in them. They held the weight of heartbreak and sorrow in them, even with her smile it was still visible.

 

The memory of her brother came bumbling back to her. The thought wiped the smile from her face as she remembered what he had done, to his own family! It made her feel sick to her stomach. She still couldn’t understand it.  _ What could bring someone to do that to their family? _

Then his confession of how fond he was of her came rippling back, she felt disgusted. She quickly pushed it back into the furthest depths of her recollection before spinning on her heel and heading back to her room.

 

She came back to the room where her two companions waited patiently. Bishop was sat on his with Karnwyr chewing on a bone at his feet. Casavir was sat on his bed in the far corner, his head drooped as he stared at the floor. He looked up when he heard her enter the room.

 

Before she could even utter a word, Bishop spoke.

“Well. Now you know where your shirt got to.” Bishop chortled. Casavir blushed red when he recognized it. She smiled with flushed cheeks as she saw the awe in his blue eyes.

“It's a little too big for me.” She giggled.

“My apologies, my lady. I…. I didn’t realise...” He blushed. Rising to his feet, still in his wet clothes with a rolled up tunic in his hands. She smiled taking it from him before heading off to go change so he could get out of his wet attire.

 

She came back and sat on her bed, playing with her hair and giving Bishop innocent stares to get his attention.

“Want me to plait your hair again?” He asked, detecting the reason for her gawking over at him.

“Yes please!” She nodded. Bishop sighed and played out as though he didn’t want to. But he came over to sit behind her and ran his fingers through her hair to pull out any knots before he began.

“When did you learn how to braid?” Sharis asked curiously. She always wondered why she would catch Bishop smirking amusingly when she tried to plait her hair: now it all made sense.

 

“Well I had long hair once. Used to make my own bow string with it.”  Bishop replied.

 

“Really?!” She smirked, imaging Bishop with long hair was not something she thought she’d see.

 

“Nah, just kidding.” He shook his head. “I used to use my pubes for that!” Bishop flashed a wicked grin.

 

“Eww! That’s gross.” She laughed.

 

“Ha, Ha! I’m kidding! But back to your question. I learnt to plait from having sisters. Also, being a Ranger, it helps when you're trying to keep things tidy or in check - It’s also a handy skill, helps you keep things under control.” Bishop yanked teasingly at the hair, jolting her head back.

 

“Ow! Bastard.” She snapped. Her face in a mixture of amusement and a challenging expression.

 

“Wench.” Bishop replied.

 

“Bishop!” Casavir frowned disapprovingly from the other side of the room.

 

“PRUDE!” Bishop yelled testingly at the Paladin. Sharis laughed at the black wolf when Bishop’s sudden outburst woke him and made Karnwyr whimper a confused howl.

The rest of the time was peaceful. Bishop filled her in with all the boring yawnful events that played out during her sleep. Nothing really to report.

 

She was desperate to leave the confines of her room, even in the dreary and wet afternoon of ragtail Riften she was begging Casavir and Bishop to let her go out. Casavir insisted she stayed in and rested til morning. But Bishop was more lenient.

 

He took her out around the market place and by the fishing docks; the alone time was nice but something was different about him. She could sense something in the air with him. The fact that Casavir decided to stay behind was unlike him and only stoked the fires of her curiosity further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night fell and after a hot meal and a couple of mugs of snowberry tea she laid in her bed. Casavir sat quietly on his bed cleaning his armour while Bishop stitched a hole in his trousers after Karnwyr got too rough during one of their brotherly romps.

Neither of them mentioned anything more about what happened at the ruins, she was grateful for that. She wasn’t ready to talk about it; for now, She wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.

 

She huddled into the furs and watched her two companions from the shadows cast over her bed. Something was going on… Her two companions knew something she didn’t as they exchanged quick glances at one another.

 

When they thought she was asleep, Casavir got up and grabbed the basket full of fresh perishables he had bought from the market and left the room. She peered at her Ranger through the tiny slits in her eyes as she falsely slept on the bed. Shorty after Casavir's exit, Bishop geared up into his armour and slung his bag on his back. He patted Karnwyr’s flank gently and the two left the room after standing over her bed for a few moments. “Good luck, Princess.” He whispered.

_ What?... What was that supposed to mean? _ She thought. When the coast was clear she jumped to her feet and without time to slip on her boots she followed after the Ranger. She clung to the shadows, holding back as to not rouse the suspicion of the wolf following his kin. She followed them all the way to the back of the inn, Bishop was stood in the kitchen speaking to somebody. 

 

“Take care of her, Paladin.” Bishop said.

 

“You know I will.” Casavir bowed his head in respect. “Farewell, Bishop.”

 

She felt like someone just punched her in the gut when she suddenly realised what was happening.  _ He’s leaving?! _ She shook her head in disbelief.

 

It all made sense now, the conversations that would silence the moment she entered the room, the quick glances they had been giving each other the entire day! The absence of Casavir when Bishop took her out for a walk through the town. It all was so clear to her now, That was Bishop’s silent way of saying goodbye. Bishop nodded as he left the inn from the back door along with Karnwyr.

 

_ No - this can’t end this way! _ She thought. Hurrying past Casavir as he turned back to the stove. She slipped out the door into the cold night. The rain fell violently on the wooden planks. The icy rain made Sharis gasp as it struck her hard. She endured and hurried after Bishop as he walked through the night cast Riften.

 

She managed to catch up to him at the stables as he handed coins to the merchant. Seizing the last opportunity she would ever have, she stepped out of the shadows, heading towards him as he was about to climb into the back of the carriage.

“Ah, shit.” He paused and dipped his head sighed lowly. He tilted his hooded head over his shoulder to accept he'd been caught.

"You're leaving?" She asked, feeling the hurt in her chest as he told the carriage driver to give him a moment and jumped back down.

"Should've known it wouldn't get past you." Bishop rubbed the back of his neck. Karnwnyr bounded over happily and rubbed himself against her leg.

"You weren't even going to say goodbye." She stepped forward. The rain beat heavy against her as she stood there. The earth like slop in her bare feet as it pushed itself between her toes.

"You know me.... I hate goodbyes." He sighed, stepping forward to face her.

"Yeah, Me too... But I think we deserve it, after everything we've been through." She replied, her voice quivering as she suppressed her despair. Bishop frowned when he looked down and saw her bare feet bogged down in mud. “You should be inside Princess. Not stood here in the rain.”

 

“I wanted to say Goodbye.” She bit down on her trembling lip, tears spilling from her eyes. Bishop sighed heavily and stepped towards her. Playing with something on his finger.

“I was err… I was - going to give you this a while ago. But… well… here.” He mumbled. He took her hand and placed something small and silver in it's palm. She examined it for a moment. It was Bishop’s prized possession - his ring. It bared the scratches and scrapes all over from its life long companionship with the Ranger. Engraved into the silver ring was a finely carved wolf head that protruded out of the metal band. It was beautiful.

“Bishop… Are you sure you wanna give me this? You love this ring!” She gawked at the fine craftsmanship. Bishop shook his head and took it from her hand.

“It’s a gift princess. Something to remember me by.” He said. Taking her hand in his he pushed the ring onto her middle finger. “Good job you got man hands. Or this lil thing wouldn’t fit.”

“They’re not man hands!” She barked, pulling her hands away and punching him in the shoulder. Bishoped laughed as she snapped angrily. She realised what he was doing. He was trying to make this easier - for both of them. She was grateful. As much as she wanted him to stay she couldn’t make him. She looked at the ring that now wrapped around her finger, still warm from his hand. A smiled trembled on her lips.

 

"Thank you Bishop.” She looked up at him. She stepped forward and embraced him tightly. Something she had never done. “Thank you for everything."

Bishop sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around her. "He'll take care of you." He whispered into her ear.

"I know he will." She sniffled. Tears beginning to fall down her cheeks again. It was a while before she let him go and wiped her face.

"He loves you. You know?” Bishop stated bluntly.  “He's too proud to say it, but he does."

"No.” She shook her head in defiance. “Bishop. He's a Paladin."

"He's a man, and every man has a heart -  and you have his." She stared amazed at Bishop’s sudden softness. His hard eyes softened as a smile graced his lips. He inhaled and coughed nervously, clearly feeling uncomfortable in the moment.

 

"Well! best be off. Remember what I taught you. Be quick on your feet and listen-"

"To your gut. Got it." She ended his sentenced. Bishop smiled again before turning for the carriage to a very impatient looking merchant.

 

“Bishop, wait!” She followed him. Tugging at his thick quilted leather cuirass. He stopped and turned to her, a curious look on his face. She timidly stepped forward and reached to cup his face. His curious expression melted away as he stared helplessly at her. She closed her eyes and reached the short distant to his face. His lips met hers softly, a gentle, tender kiss. Holding still for a moment to just take in their farewell. When she pulled back and opened her eyes Bishop was staring at her with wide eyes before they sparkled with amusement. The corners of his lips curled upwards and his canines revealed themselves. "That was the shittest kiss I've ever had." He laughed.

 

"Yeah? Well you're shit as well!" She giggled patting his cheek.

"HAH! Well, my talents are with more pleasurable tastes." He laughed. Backing away and climbing up and making himself comfy in the cart.  

"Until we meet again." He bowed his head. "I look forward to hearing the story of the lil princess who saved the world." He grinned. She smiled thoughtfully at him as the merchant set off into a slow trot. She looked down at the wolf at her feet, looking up at her with his golden eyes.

 

“Look after him for me.” She said, giving him one last scratch under his mouth before he licked her hand. Bishop whistled for his wolf and Karnwyr began to catch up with the cart.

"God speed Bishie." Sharis shouted as she cradled she shivering wet body.

"Oh, don't curse me woman!" She heard Bishop shout back as the cart slowly rolled out of sight. She turned away to head back to the gates, tears crept to her eyes as she heard the mournful howl of Karnwyr echoing through the night.


	20. My word is my vow

Casavir stood over the cooking pot, watching the onions caramelize before he piled in the diced meat into the pot. He was planning on making some broth for their travels and perhaps even a meat pie for Sharis. He knew how much she enjoyed pies.

He enjoyed cooking: something he rarely got to do. When traveling on the road or in the wilderness there was very little opportunity for creative cooking – food was food. Having time to cook in the kitchen was also numbing the dull ache in his chest.  
He couldn’t drive out the knot of cold dread that remained within him as he remembered her again at the ruins. The knot rolled painful in his gut as he remembered the sight of her eyes when that beast had her in it’s deadly clutches.

Her scream… that sound would never leave him.

Neither would the sight that met him when he rushed outside and found her thrashing around the floor, the look on the Ranger’s face when he saw help coming. The blood that poured from her neck and soaked her attire – her wide frightened eyes leaking a thick black tar like substance.  
Even though he’d apologised and she had soothed his conscience, it still felt like it wasn’t enough. The guilt was still there: and it tormented him over and over. It twisted and tore into him like a blunt knife.  
 _How foolish of me,_ he ground his teeth, one hand gripped the wooden spoon tightly while the other hand dug it’s fingers into the stone stove he was leant against. He had played right into that monsters trap. _He was after Lady Sharis the whole time… and I was so foolish to allow her to venture in with me._

He sighed lowly, before turning for the salt dish on the table behind him, but paused when he saw Bishop slip into the room, his golden eyes fixed on Casavir as he entered. Casavir remained silent as Bishop stood across the room, locked in a standstill.

“You don’t even have the decency to say goodbye to her.” Casavir sneered, disdain written on his face.

“It’s better this way.” Bishop shrugged. Adjusting his bandolier.

“Better for you. You mean?” Casavir retorted. He didn’t agree with Bishops disappearing act. It was cowardly and disgraceful, worse thing was that he knew he’d be left to pick up the pieces of a broken heart in the Rangers absence.  
“Oh quit whining like a Lil bitch, Paladin. You win alright?! You got the girl. So enough with the self righteous bullshit!” Bishop snapped. Casavir opened his mouth to speak but the words froze up in his throat. He frowned, his thick brows knitting together with annoyance before he exhaled deeply and scrunched his eyes.  
“She is not a prize to be won.” Casavir spoke with a tempered calm.  
“Don’t preach that crap, knight. You’ve been fighting to get in her good graces ever since you ‘waltzed’ into her life. I’m not standing by and watching you take her away from me. I’d rather just leave and let you sort out your childish feelings.”  
“You’re despicable.” Casavir’s eyes narrowed as his top lip twitched upward. He could see it now. He could see her waking up the morning most likely in a panic trying to look for Bishop. He could already see the heartbreak in her eyes, the thought of it made his chest ache.  
Bishop didn’t answer. Instead he turned his predatory gaze to the ground, he looked like he was sharing the same image that Casavir was visioning.

“I’ll share something with you. It might help you get your priorities straight.” Bishop spoke, walking over to the table and wrapping some of the produce in a linen cloth.  
“I always knew you liked her. At first, I thought it was just your blue balls acting up. But when I saw how you affected her. I knew, I knew she liked you too. I ain’t gonna lie; it pissed me off so bad, I considered slitting your throat and leaving you to bleed out in some shit infested alley; and when we found you lifeless in the snow in the icy hills of Haafingar. I wanted to carve your head in two with your own sword… but… I didn’t. I helped her drag you all the way back to town for her to nurse you back to health. I did it for her… because… I love her too.” Bishop words almost turned to a whisper when he spoke that last bit.  
Casavir had no words, he was unsure on how to feel or even what to say. He allowed Bishop to take some of the supplies and just listened. He wasn’t sure why, but he was curious of the ranger and even more curious as to why Bishop was opening up.  
“I’ve watched her with you. How she walked with you. Talked with you. She smiles at you the way she’s never smiles when she looks at me. But the moment I realised just how much you fell for her. Was Riverwood.” Bishop paused. Glaring straight at Casavir. “You remember the dragon? You remember how you both worked together to bring that bastard down…? Well I was watching you… both of you…. and I saw you do something I would NEVER have expected from such a pompous, perfumed assed man – such as yourself!”  
Casavir growled behind gritted teeth as the smug Ranger nonchalantly continued. The words that came next left Casavir nonplussed. “You dropped your sword, Paladin. You saw her fall to the ground and you dropped your weapon without a second thought. Ha! Of all the years I’ve known you…. Well…. I never thought I’d see the day.”  
Casavir stared blankly at the Ranger. He remembered that day, he remembered running to her… he remembered how easily it was for his grip to just slip away from his sword. Bishop was right – in all his years… he had never found it so easy to just… let go….

Bishop smirked confidently. He stuffed the supplies in his bag and turned to Casavir, his cold judgmental stare softened. “Take care of her.” His cold and indifferent tone changed to one of compassion.  
“You know I will.” Casavir replied somewhat lost in his thoughts. “Farewell, Bishop.” Casavir bowed his head politely as he watched Bishop and his wolf leave through the kitchen door out into the night.

Casavir sighed and turned back to his cooking, adding some water and some vegetables to the mix before giving it a stir.  
His mind was in scrambles. He wasn’t sure what to think now. He had hoped no one had noticed how sudden he had abandoned his sword. He himself was surprised at his sudden change of character at the time. He sighed, pushing it away as he tried to think of something else. He wouldn’t let this conversation with Bishop cloud his mind.  
He tried to think of something else but all he saw was Sharis. The upset and heartbreak in those wonderful eyes. The smile dwindling from her face, the cruelty of the world dampening her light.  
He began to prepare himself for what he was to say in the morning. How he was going to try to make her feel better. Perhaps take her shopping? A walk around the market stalls? Or would that bring back painful memories?  
The sound of a door opening behind him and the slapping of heavy rain made him turn back to where Bishop had left.  
He thought he was seeing things at first, but when a small Breton woman stepped in from the cold night. He stared at her incredulously, her drenched cinnamon waves clung to her face and her sodden clothes clung to every curve of her small curvaceous figure.  
“My lady?!” He breathed in confusion. “Wha… What are you doing out in the rain at this hour? W-where are your shoes?” He proceeded to cross the room towards her and paused mid step when she began to speak.  
“He’s gone.” Her toneless voice brought a lump to his throat as his mind frantically searched for something to say.  
“Yes.” He lowered his head glumly, waiting for her wake from her hollow trance. She looked up at him with her glittering gold and green eyes, holding such sorrow and disappointment it shot through him like an ice spike.

“… You knew.” She enigmatic stare made him squirm inside his shell.  
“He… He didn’t want me say anything.” He finally spoke, immediately feeling a pang of guilt as he saw the light dim in her eyes. She stared at him for what felt like forever, he couldn’t read her expression. Her eyes were fierce and intimidating yet they were still tender. He felt an urge to grovel before her, to fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.  
“My lady… I’m sorry.” His hand reached for her but before he could make contact, she turned away and headed for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.” She said flatly before exiting the kitchen, leaving the Paladin to stand alone, lost in the vast ocean of his emotions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With his mind a scramble, Casavir stood at the bedroom door. Talen’s offer of his special alcoholic beverages began to sound surprisingly tempting. He felt like ripping his hair out with all this confounded stress. _Damn you Bishop!_ He growled in his throat.  
He pulled himself straight and took a deep breath, hyping himself up. He knocked on the door and waited a few moments before entering the room. Casavir had waited downstair for a while for her to change and get ready for bed. He kept his eyes averted to the ground as he entered the room. He thought Sharis may be sleeping but understandably, she was awake. Sat on her bed, wearing a dry pair of trousers and shirt and braiding her hair into a dishevelled plait.  
She turned to look over at the Paladin and gave him a weak smile to acknowledge his presence as she continued to tangle her fingers in her wet hair. Casavir sat himself on the bed opposite her. The tension around him built like a bubble that needed to pop. He took another deep breath through his nose and clasped his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees.  
“My lady. I need to apologize for withholding my knowledge of Bishop’s self dismissal. He – asked me not to inform you and that you would better off not knowing.” Casavir eyed his hands, it was so difficult to look at her but when he finally did, he found his eyes glued to her. Waiting for some kind of reaction.  
“You don’t need to apologise. I’m not mad at you, Casavir.” She finally spoke after what felt like forever to the emotionally chaffed Paladin. “I’m just… well.. I don’t even know.” She sighed giving up on her hair and turned to look out the window which sat above her bed. He stared at her while she gazed out at the midnight rain. He felt like he needed to say something – Anything! But the words he was hunting for were lost to him.

His eyes wander her back. He found himself nursing the need to pull her into his arms. His body yearned to remind itself how her wonderful figure felt when it pressed against him.How her presence gave him such comfort, especially now when he felt so raw and expossed from this painful guilt.  
“… I feel…” She began. “… I feel like I’m losing everything. First my family, then my freedom… now my friends.” Sharis breathed a weak laugh, pulling a smile on her face and she reached for a mug on the windowsill, Casavir immediately noticed from her side profile, her lower lip trembling. “Bishop is gone… which leaves me and you. Now… I wonder when you’ll decide to up and leave?”  
“My lady!” Casavir exclaimed utterly taken aback by her words. And somewhat offended. He didn’t know what to say! What could he say?  
“Maybe it’ll be when I have too much to drink one night and I bring shame upon you? Or maybe it’ll be when you realise you came half way across Nirn for nothing. Just to Babysit a little mage who was cursed with Dragons blood. Or maybe-”  
“Stop!” Casavir’s firm tone shocked even him. Neither of them were prepared for what happened next; When Casavir jumped to his feet and crossed the room to her bed. He reached for the tanker in her hand and pulled it away, he knew from the smell of spiced wine and brandy that it was not tea she was drinking.  
“Hey, what are you doing?” Sharis tried to snatch it back. “Gimme it back!” Casavir ignored her while he strode over to the other window and proceeded to pour the tankers contents out of it.

  
“Oi!” She barked, obviously irritated by his silence and disobedience. She turned to climb off the bed and stop him pouring the rest of Talen’s cliffracer out of the window but in a few strong strides, Casavir had seated himself beside her and turned to look steadfast into her eyes. She strangely felt his dominance in that moment, if she had ears that could fall back like a dog, then they would have been.  
“Firstly, My lady. I am not a babysitter. I am a Paladin. Secondly, Your dragon’s blood is not a curse. It is a blessing bestowed upon you by the God’s -and thirdly…” He took a deep inhale of air before he took her hand in his and held it securely, the other rested on the dorsal side of her hand.  
“You should have already realised that I am here to stay.” He spoke softly, his voice like warm honey as it soothed her dubious thoughts. “You may shame me all you wish, throw me in the street with nothing but the moon to shine on my bare behind.” A tender smile graced his lips as he noticed a soft smile grow on hers. He knew that would make her smile. The thought of the Paladin mooning the moon itself brought a bubble of amusement to the sensitive moment.  
“It would not deter me from my promise to you. My word is my vow, lady Sharis. I am your sword; From this day, until my last.” He finished, he bowed his head, holding his gaze at their hands. She drooped her head to hide the dimples forming in her cheeks. Ashamed at giggling at such an inappropriate time, damn her for being so facetious!  
Her eyes stared at his large masculine hands, hard and callous yet so gentle as they held hers. Anyone would mistake him for a Nord due to his size. His hands strong and robust, built for wielding heavy weaponry and hard labour. She bit her lip when she remembered them touching her face, drawing her out of the darkness and into the divine light. She wanted it again, she wanted him to touch her again. She wanted nothing more than that!  
“I don’t want you to leave… ever!” Her sweat voice was brittle as her fingers curled around his hand.  
“Then here I shall stay, my lady.” Casavir sounded with a soft timbering rumble of his voice. He raised her hands up to his face and gently placed a kiss upon it.

Her teary eyes followed the line of travel her hand made as her heart swelled with a flurry of excitement. He breath quickened as she felt his soft silken lips press delicately against her hand. This, along with the dulcet tone in his voice brought visions of him kissing her in… other places. Cheeks, nose, brow, lips, neck… _oh my!_  
She felt heat rush into her face as her mouth became suddenly dry. The soft candlelight danced on his handsome features, his eyes shut and his thick black lashes shielded her from his eyes at that moment. She was grateful, if she could feel the heat in her cheeks, then it was definitely visible!  
When he began to lift his head she dropped her’s and shuffled towards him on the bed. She timidly leant into him, hoping he would catch the hint, or just allow her to divulge in his masculine form.

She felt his torso stiffen a little as she came closer. She could feel every curve and definition of his muscles. His warm seductive scent made her groan softly, she felt him tense even more as she did; Still she held on. Her free hand reached around him and held the square of his back, she remained still for what felt like minutes but was only seconds. She closed her eyes holding down the pained lump in her throat. The strong rhythm of his beating heart was so comforting. The thought of losing him or the idea of this beating drum ceasing it’s song brought the lump to breaking point as she squeaked a sob.

“Please don’t leave?” She whimpered. She was so embarrassed about constantly crying on him, but he never protested or turned away. He remained… he always remained. His body tempered softly, and his strong arms wrapped around her instantly, pulling her securely into him.  
“I am yours, my lady.” He soothed. Allowing her to nestle into him. Before long her whimpering ceased and her body as she fell asleep in his arms again. He scooped her up in his arms and laid her on the bed, blanketing her with his cloak before he kissed her hand again and returned to his bed for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Casavir was asleep, deep in his dreams._

_Flowers in hand, he stared at the items in his hands as he walked up the stone steps, he was happy – sort of._

_He was going to propose his love – the only good thing left in his life. Was she?_

_He had the ring, gold with a white diamond. It cost almost all his savings but it was worth it for her. He supposed…_

_He stepped through the doors and walked into the room. The entire room fell silent – bar the musicians in the background as he ambly walked past the crowd of drunks and to her chambers._

_They eyed him – but no one uttered a word as he made his way up the stairs to his beloved’s chamber._

_Life had been cruel to young Casavir. He would not allow corruption to take away the one shred of happiness this woman gave to him. Did she?_

_Along the corridor he walked past a maid carrying some fresh bed linen. He knew her face, he’d seen her before. She glanced up at him but kept walking past as he headed for the bedroom._

_His fingers curled around the doorknob, ready to turn it but he stopped when a voice called to him._

_“Casavir.”_

_The voice so soft and angelic; The mere sound if it made his soul sour. He knew that voice. Though some reason he felt it did not fit in with his surroundings, like the voice wasn’t connected to this place. He turned his head towards another door._

_He’d never noticed this door before… it was large, made of crude metal with strange markings engraved into it. The door stood out like a sore thumb as it demanded attention._

_There it was again… that voice calling to him. It was coming from behind the door._

_He curiously walked towards it when the voice called to him again. As he stepped closer he felt the cold icy breath resonating from it. Its aura was strong and intimidating, yet this did not faze him as he pressed his hands against it and pushed._

_It slowly began to open with a rumbling echo. Icy wind blew at him as he opened the door and was welcomed by a bright uray of an orange and pink sky and the dawning sun shining over icy mountains peaks as they poked free from a vast ocean of mist as far as the eye could see. His shoes sunk into the thick snow at his feet, but he did not feel the cold. He looked around him. He was stood on the foot of a mountain. Alone, with nothing more than cloudless skies and the morning sun to greet him._

_He spun on his heel to look around when he heard a groan. It sounded like an animal… but it was not the sound of an animal he had yet faced. Then he saw it._

_There in the snow was small creature. It wailed fearfully as it rolled through the snow, it was small and scaly. Something beckoned him to step closer to the creature, as he did, he saw it dragging something behind it as it moved. Wings – it was a dragon!_

_His jaw dropped as he gazed in complete awe at the little dragon. It turned slowly and reared it’s head to look up at him with its large twinkling eyes. He gasped – he’d seen those eyes before! He knew he had, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where._

_It’s squeal was one that sounded joyful before it plodded its way through the thick snow towards him. Some reason it did not fear him, nor did he fear it. He knelt down and carefully picked it up when he saw it struggling to wade its way through the thick white blanket._

_It was warm, for a scaled creature that had been laying in snow. It’s scales were a rich brown that shone golden when the sun’s light touched them. It’s head wasn’t as scaly as the rest of it’s body and was instead covered with hard skin that resembled that of a argonian youngling. From the centre of it’s head down it’s body was a trail of small horned spikes. For it’s size, one would think it was defenceless and frail, but it could sense great power within this small dragon._

_It’s eyes were large and almost bulbous as it stared at him with curiosity. They were a striking, filled with a variety of greens and glittered with flakes of golden light. When he looked at the creature sat gaily in his arms, a name came to him. He didn’t understand… why but for some reason this name held some importance._

_“… Sharis…” The moment he spoke that name, the little dragon in his arms purred happily and it’s fresh eyes shone with joy. He smiled as it reached up and nestled against it’s neck. He smiled as he stroked down the horned mane of the little dragon. He felt so happy and at peace when he held it. It’s rumbling purrs and growls were comforting and he felt like he was whole. Like all the pieces of his existence came together and the heavens and nirn had finally aligned at that very moment._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My lady, I don’t need another satchel.” Casavir sighed. Sharis frowned at him unconvinced. His satchel was old, thin and worn – littered with quick fix stitchings where she could tell it had been begging him to throw it away long before now.

  
“But this one is bigger and stronger!” She stated, presenting him with the satchel she held onto so no one else would buy it.

  
“Very well. But please, let me pay?” Casavir finally gave in as he reached into his side pouch for his coins.

  
“Anything else you wanna buy?” The grumpy merchant sniped. Scowling at the mage who was bogarting the satchel. ‘Grumpy Grelka’ Sharis had referred to her as. She certainly suited the title.  
Before Casavir could react, Sharis was already passing coins to the merchant for her purchase. She turned to Casavir proudly and handed him his new bag. He could understand why she was adamant on buying it. It was well made, the craftsmanship and the material was strong, it could hold more supplies than his shabby old one. He liked it, though he didn’t like the fact she was wasting her coin on him. His eye caught the sight of a midnight steel behind the merchant. It was peering at him from behind a burlap cloth it was roughly wrapped in.

  
“May I see what you have under those wrappings?” Casavir asked pointing to the sword behind the merchant. Grelka raised her brows, staring at him incredulously. Thank the Gods he was luckily pointing to the greatsword behind her; he blushed when he realised how innuendo his words had come across. He would have hoped no one would have noticed but it was too late, Sharis giggled.

  
“What this?” The merchant pulled out a large greatsword from the back and raised it up. Casavir nodded and reached for it as she handed it to him to inspect. It was dull, the metal was the color of midnight but had a metalic sheen when the noon sun shone on it.  
“Pretty.” Sharis smiled, admiring the colours.

  
“How much do you want for this sword?” Casavir asked Grelka. The stall keeper’s frown softened slightly as she realised she was about to make a purchase.  
“1200” She said. Sharis gasped and gripped the scabbard looking at Casavir as she shook her head.  
“1000” Casavir began to barter. Grelka didn’t put up much of a challenge as she shrugged. “Fine.”  
“You already have a sword, Cas! What do you need another one for? You can’t exactly go dual wielding this bad boy!” Sharis whined.  
“It’s not for me, my lady. It’s for you.” Casavir’s smirk was so soft, it sent butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Then his words sunk in.  
“Casavir. How in Gods graces am I gonna lift this thing? I’m a mage. I even struggle with toothpick here!” She wiggled her mother’s dagger on her belt. Casavir chuckled to himself and shook his head. She had even given her mother’s dagger a name.  
“I do not doubt you will struggle to wield it in this form.” Casavir completed his purchase and turned towards the blacksmiths. “But, I have some plans for this sword. Though I will require the blacksmith’s forge. Would you like to continue round the market stalls before I get started.”  
“Can I watch?!” Sharis beamed. Excitement and curiosity danced in her vibrant hazel gems. She knew Casavir could smith but the opportunity to watch him was a chance she would not miss out on.  
“Are you sure? I could be with the sword all day…” Casavir raised an elegant brow.  
“Positive!” She smiled as she linked her arm with him and squeezed with excitement. Casavir’s lips quirked upwards as he admired her eagerness.  
“Very well. Ounce I am finished we could start your training on how to properly wield it. That is… if you still wish to learn…?” Casavir asked as he suddenly became nervous.  
“Of course I want to!” She nodded. “C’mon. To the blacksmith!”

He was so happy to see her smile again. She seemed somewhat back to her old self.

She had awoken during the night crying and she had sobbed into his shirt until she fell asleep again. But, he was honored she felt comfortable enough to confide in him, it was something he hadn’t thought he would be doing when he came to Skyrim to serve her – but it gave him a sense of purpose and it was most rewarding.  
Now she sat on the bench by the forge, watching the forges embers heat up the blade as he fastened on some leather bracers. She sat and watched with eyes of a inquisitive child. When he began to beat the white hot ebony blade on the anvil, he needed to turn away when he caught her many times before with a strange look in her eyes, always when he was shaping the blade. He wasn’t sure what that look was,  but it sure made him hotter than the forge did.  
He was so engrossed on his work, he didn’t see her move herself to the workbench for a closer look.  
“So, how exactly are you planning to make that sword more suitable for me?” She asked. Casavir paused and looked up and smiled nervously upon realising her change of seating.  
“You’ll see.” He smiled. She couldn’t help but smile back while slicing a chunk of her fresh red apple. She hopped up from her seat and walked towards him, holding the slice up for him.  
“Thank you. But I can’t, my lady. My hands are dirty.” He shook his head.  
“I know, open your mouth.” She smirked. Casavir stared blankly at her, flustered from her request. She wriggled her brows and raised the apple piece closer to his lips. With hesitation he slowly opened his mouth and allowed her to pop the slice of apple between his lips. She smiled proudly before walking back to her seat. She couldn’t tell if his red face was because of the forge’s heat or the closeness they had just shared.  
Casavir took a moment to eat the apple piece, readying himself for the next strike. Eyed the spot he was about to strike and readied himself. He raised the hammer up and struck down as hard as he could muster.  
Twang!  
The blade broke and the nine inches of white hot ebony clanged along the cobbles. He turned to Sharis who was frozen still through a mid bite, eyes gaping at the hot fragment on the floor.  
“That’s what happens when you start showing off.” She stated with a hint of amusement.  
Casavir chuckled before he placed the blade in the forge and grabbed the tongs to pick up fragment before some poor soul trod on it.  
“I was intending on doing that.” He smirked.  
“Oh Yeah, of course you were!” She exaggerated a wink. He shook his head and continued work on the blade.  
He was determined to finish this sword by midnight at the latest. Malomund just laughed when he heard the Paladin’s deadline, but he was soon shut up when he witnessed the Paladin’s skill in smithing.

Sharis didn’t really want to leave him to work on the sword alone, but he insisted she got some rest. So she brought him some pie and fruit tea before she left him at the forge and headed for their rented room at the Bee and Barb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning rays shining into the room woke her in the morning. She stretched out in her bed before sitting up in bed, she yawned and reached over for mug of snowberry tea she had failed to finish that night. As she did, she looked over at Casavir’s bed to see him sprawled out on the furs. Still wearing his boots.  
 _Wonder what time it was before he got to bed?_ She thought with a inquisitive frown. She stood up and watched him sleep for a while. He looked so peaceful now, his sudden awakenings had stopped. She couldn’t remember the last time he had woken from sleep in a blind panic. She was glad, it was distressing to see him in such a way. Still she was curious as to what his dream was about? Or what had changed to cease those nightmares?  
She then saw something long in the table, by the window. A scabbard – similar to the one she had seen on the ebony greatsword but it was smaller. She stood up and carefully walked over to the table, staring down at the sword.  
Curiosity latched onto her, as her fingers curled around the grip. The other hand wrapped around the hard black leather scabbard as she unsheathed it. The moment she did – she paused. The glint a rainbow sheen on the three inches of smooth exposed ebony left her staring in admiration. Like a child with a new toy, she wiped the sword from it’s caddy and gawked lean slither of midnight steel.  
“Heavy – but not too heavy.” She said to herself. It was perfect length and weight for her, she loved the array of colours that danced along its shank. She felt a sense of power from wielding it as she began swinging it around and dueling an invisible foe.  
“When your reach Oblivion, tell them who sent you.” She piped heroically to herself as she swished it through the air, “Ha, Harr. I got che.” She spouted, turning to attack another imaginary enemy who was approaching from the rear. She swung her blade only to have it hit something very real – metal. She stared wide eyed and baited breath until she realised her blade had come into contact with Casavir’s greatsword which he held up to parry her attack.  
Her eyes snapped up to his soft blue eyes and they gazed at her fondly. “You have a good arm, my lady. Your footwork however, could do with some attention.” He chuckled.  
“….Er…” Was all she could say to that comment. Overtaken by shock at her Paladin’s sudden presence.  
“So, I assume you like the sword…?” Casavir asked, tilting his head slightly as he arched one of his thick brows.  
“Er, yeah…I do! I was – just emm… well…” She held the sword and let the point sit on the floor. Looking awkwardly at her feet as she realised she had been caught goofing around.

  
“It’s not too heavy? I took off quite a bit and had to reshape it many times.” Casavir spoke resting his greatsword back against the wall. She shook her head and turned her attention to his fine work on the sword. She couldn’t help but be overwhelmed at his hard work and dedication to make this for her.  
“I love it.” She smiled thoughtfully, her cheeks still a rose blush from the earlier events. Casavir smiled broadly, his pearly whites exposed. She felt the blood burning her cheeks again, as she bit on her lip to detain a coy smile. _Why doesn’t he smile like that all the time?_ She thought to herself.  
“Wonderful. You have no idea how pleased I am that you like it. I made something else for you with the remaining ebony.” He quickly turned and rummaged through his new satchel which sat at the bottom of his bed. Pulling out something small and also wrapped in a black leather pouch. She sheathed her sword and laid it on the bed as she took the black narrow pouch from Casavir’s hands. She smiled to see the same blade metal with rainbow sheen but was more enthralled by it’s different shape to her sword. It appeared more familiar to her.  
“I… I tried to make it resemble ‘Toothpick’. I know it’s not perfect but-”  
“It. is. perfect.” She corrected him. “They’re both perfect.”  
Casavir’s indecisiveness vanished from his face and was replaced by another boyish smile. She smiled too. He was just too adorable when he smiled! The way his cheeks puffed up and his eyes twinkled with happiness. It irritated her slightly at how little he did smile like that, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin the short time she had admiring it. Besides there would be plenty of opportunities to bring that smile to light.  
She dropped the new dagger next to it’s brother and stepped dangerously close to Casavir, wrapping her arms around him waist as she hugged him. She nestled her cheek into his chest and smiled contently as she heard his steady beating heart begin to race. “Thank you, Casavir.”  
“You are most welcome, my lady.” He chuckled nervously and hugged her back.  
She loosened her embrace and reared her head to gaze up at him with a soft serene smile. Casavir timidly faced her, there it was again! The same look she had seen in his eyes at Ivarstead was now glowing in those two warm blue pools. She must have been staring too long because Casavir began to release her and took a step back as he cleared his throat.

“So. My lady… When would you like to start your training?” He asked, a regimental yet quirky twang mixed in with his thick rich voice.  
“Now!”


	21. Segregation

“Ah, shhhit.” She cursed. Beginning to giggle to herself when she realized the pun as she scraped some beasts crap off her boot. Even Casavir chuckled, though he soon silenced when she peered over.

 

“How much do you think we can carry?” Casavir asked inspecting the fresh kill of a cave bear that had found it's demise at the end of Casavir's sword.

 

“I don’t know. I have room in my bag for some meat. We could skin it and carry the fur with us. Use it as a layer off the cold floor and sell it at the next merchant we cross?” Sharis suggested, pulling off her leather gauntlets and putting her bag down. She brandished her new ebony dagger and began to cut carefully. The knife sliced through it’s thick skin like a hot knife through butter.

 

“Let's hope we don’t have anymore little encounters.” Casavir sighed. He grabbed the reins of his horse as he inspected its wound. Blasted bear came galumphing out of nowhere as almost threw him off his horse. He poured some spring water over the bleeding wound to clean it before he used his Restoration magic to heal his loyal steed. The spooked horses were still entranced by the Thu’um Sharis had cried to calm their horses after the ordeal.

 

They were taking another short diversion, the Jarl had a bounty on a dragon that was perched up on the mountain just behind Riften. Sharis insisted she needed to check it out, it was way too close to the town for her to be comfortable to leave the Rift.

 

_ “Dragons are power crazed and extremely territorial. If they see a town filled with people, joor. Then it'll most likely see it as a threat, or even a challenge.” _ Sharis had said when she pulled the notice off the board and rolled it up into her pouch.

 

Casavir walked over with the his knife brandished in his hand, ready to assist her. As he drew closer he saw she was managing just fine. The only thing she truly needed help with was moving the bear and pulling away it’s pelt.

 

“Ok! So, if my map is correct…” She said. Pulling her map out and fighting with it in the crisp morning wind. “The Lost tongue overlook is…. There!” She knelt on the map and pointed ahead. Casavir nodded as he attached the pelt to the back of his saddle. “It’s an old dragon ruin, where they used to worship the dragons back before the dragon war. I guess it makes sense for one to be perching up there.” She added. “C’mon. We’ll leave the horses at the foot of the hill.”

 

While Sharis was almost skipping up the stone steps to the old dragon ruin, Casavir was struggling. It was warm for a winter morning - either that Casavir needed to cut down on the sweet rolls.

_ First it’s cold - then it’s hot… make up your mind Kyne! _ He panted quietly, hiding his exhaustion behind his neutral composure.  _ It certainly is a lovely view though… _ He thought to himself as he gazed out at the wildness below. He turned back to where he was stepping when he stepped one too many and fumbled forward.

 

“You ok?” Sharis asked with an amused grin. He nodded as he composed himself for the last stretch of steps. 

 

“Yes, My lady. May I ask what our plan is when he find this dragon?”

 

She shrugged, her finger curled against plum of her lip and her thumb pressed against her chin. “Well, I was hoping to talk to it. Perhaps persuade it to relocate...?”

 

Casavir laughed at her comment. But when he noticed the earnest look on her face, he stared at her incredulously, before he asked. “Is that even possible?”

 

“No - well. I don’t know actually. Should we try?”

 

“Pfft, If you feel there is a possibility of succession.” He gauged a nervous laugh. She grinned playfully at him before turning and continuing up the steps.

 

He watched her from behind as she walked ahead. The way she gracefully and effortlessly waltzed up those steps. The dream he had a few nights ago was still wandering his recollection. The more he thought about it, the more it became relatable. Especially right now.

 

The late morning sun cast down on them, leaving her long cinnamon curls to glimmer with flecks of gold - just like the little dragon’s body had done. He could imagine her with a tail, long and arrow headed at the tip. Even wings, that would curl in on themselves as they sat either side of her gorgeous long hair.

 

Her walk was allot like the way the dragon moved in his dream. Not when it was clumsily wading through the snow! But the way its hind legs shifted its body from side to side as it moved. Like how her hips gracefully swayed with each step she took. Those wide, full, grabable hips…. So tempting and…  _ WOAH! _

 

Casavir halted on the step. Blood burned through his entire body as he felt his manhood stiffen. Did he seriously just turn himself on?!

 

_ Inappropriate! So bloody inappropriate! _ He scolded himself as he looked down at his footing. It was awkward to walk, now he had a growing semi pushing awkwardly under his armour. He peered up to see if she was looking before doing a little jig to adjust himself.  _ Serves you right! _ He told himself.

“Cas, get down!” She stressed a whisper as she quickly crouched down. Casavir did so too at the expense of pinching on his armour.

 

“Look - over there.” She pointed. Casavir looked in the direction she was pointing as there it was. A dragon. It was roosted up on a large stone structure as it looked out into the Rift. It was huge! Covered in vibrant orange and gold bone like scales all over it’s entire body. Peppered with black horns all over its back and two exceedingly larger ones on it's head. One above each of it’s eyes.

 

“Casavir, are you alright?” Sharis asked, waking him from his thoughts. She was looking at him with worry, her eyes were on his hand which was unintentionally clutching his inner thigh - where his manhood was building. “Are you in pain?” She began to reach over. 

 

“Oh, No! I’m ok. It… it’s just an itch.” He quickly turned himself out of her reach.  _ Yeah, an itch you can’t scratch. _

 

“Do you wanna... tend to it before we start? It hasn’t seen us yet so…”

 

“Em, No. I’ll, I'll be alright.” He stuttered. “Do you... still wish to talk to it...?”

 

“Worth a shot!” She winked. “Stay here and tend to your 'itch'. You look like you're gonna pass out.” She said as she scurried off on all fours.

 

_ It would only be from embarrassment if I did, _ He silently replied to her.

 

“If I shout ‘POTATO’. It means it didn’t work. If that happens, get ready to fight.” She whispered loudly before crawling up the steps and advancing forward. Casavir gawked at her with an absolute befuddled expression as she drew closer and closer to the dragon, it hadn’t detected her yet but his nerves were wrecked. He thought she was just jesting when she spoke of having a conversation with the beast.  _ Why in God’s graces did she think talking to it would work?! _

 

He watched her slip out of her hiding place and walk in front of the dragon. The moment it saw her it lowered its head and roared something in a tongue he did not understand.

 

“Drem yol lok, Dovah.” She replied to the creature.

 

_ She's actually speaking to the beast? _ He stared. As days, weeks and months had passed, travelling with this woman of legend. She never ceased to surprise him. He couldn't believe she was now actually trying to persuade a dragon to move home. He glanced down as the stiffening limp under his armour began to ebb. He sighed relief. 

 

“POTATO!” He suddenly heard her scream. He looked back over to see her whirl winding towards him. "FUCKING POTATO!!"

 

The dragon was now airborne and was circling above them. Casavir leapt to his feet and readied himself for the battle. Sharis cast her new ebony skin armour spell as they jumped into the fray - together.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Now finally down within the sea of forever Autumn trees, they could return to their main objective. She had collected the payment for the Dragon’s death, she didn’t actually do it for the money. Her intention was to at first make peace but when the dragon attacked she had been left with no other alternative.

 

They passed through Shor’s stone village that was plagued with a arachnid infestation which forced them to stop work on their mine. Sharis offered to clear out the problem and did just that. The gold was nice but the free warm beds and hot food they were given for their stay was much more gratifying than the weight of cold metal pieces in her pocket.

 

Their journey lead them further and further on into the hot springs of Eastmarch. They would travel during the day and stop in evening to set up camp and partake in Casavir’s combat training.

 

“Good, you seem to be getting the idea of it now.” He smiled picking himself up out of the dirt she just struck him into.

“Are you alright?” She laughed triumphantly, walking over to help him up. He chuckled with a nod.

“Would you like to continue?” He asked.

“One more. If that's OK?” She replied adjusting Casavir’s chain mail vest he had instructed her to wear. Casavir said it would give her the benefit of being quicker on the battlefield if she trained in heavy armour. She wasn't going to argue with him,  after witnessing Casavir’s fighting skills. Casavir was surprisingly fast in the gear he wore and now in training, she finally understood why.

 

“Do you still wish for me to just… charge at you…?” Casavir asked apprehensively.

She nodded “Yup, don't go easy on me.” She grinned playfully. Clutching her sword tight as she took her stance.

 

“Very well.” He bowed his head and took his position. He quickly darted forward, bringing his sword up to double as a shield to stun her. She was quick too. She had managed to parry every strike he attempted to make. Normally when an opponent was swinging a two handed weapon around, they were slow and a very mechanical. Casavir however was different… much different. He used his sword like it was part of his body. Maneuvered it with ease and great expertise.

His training was working well for her. She had always wanted to learn a real technique with weapons, rather than swinging it around like an idiot: And who was best to train her, than the mighty Paladin.

 

Casavir was an amazing teacher, he was patient and disciplined. Tactful with his criticism but safety was his main concern, it was understandable. He refused to remove the scabbard from his sword and she did the same. Didn't want to be punching holes in one another.

“Keep your eyes on me, not where you're going to strike.” He instructed. “You're eyes are giving you away; and your moves are becoming predictable.” He said as he stepped back avoiding a swing from her sword. She could see the thrill of the fight in his eyes when they trained, she could tell he was taking great pleasure in training her. He seemed to come alive with energy and forward confidence which made him more adorable.  

 

“Oh Yeh? How's THIS for predictable.” She barked valiantly with fueled adrenaline.  She lunged forward and swung herself under his attack bringing herself inches from his face. With a devilish grin she hooked her leg round his and pushed against his chest to take him down to the ground.

She saw the panic flash in his face, but Casavir was quick to react. Wrapping his arms tightly around her and bringing her down with him.

The impact of the ground was hard enough to disarm them both. She heard the air being forced from his body as he landed, shielding her from the ground. Before she could even react, he quickly rolled over and pinned her hands above her head with just one of his. The other was balled up but his thumb pressed gently against her throat as if it was a blade.

 

“I win this one.” His face was inches from hers, his rich voice came in hot breaths which tickled her cheeks. His eyes were wild with the thrill of the fight and of his victory.

Suddenly, she became aware of just how large he was compared to her, his large strapping form shadowed the evening sun. Her heart raced like galloping horses as she realised the positioning of his legs, his knee between her inner thighs unintentionally pressed against her womanhood. Her mouth became incredibly dry but her flower, between her legs, was blooming with lubricious nectar.

 

She waned a nervous smile and saw a lingering sparkle of something behind his eyes which left her in a submissive trance.

“... This… emm…. This turned out so much better in my head.” She confessed with a timid smile, her eyes couldn't decide where to look…

 

“Uh… yes.. I can imagine.” He nodded, his cheeks began to pinken as he swiftly got up. “Did I hurt you?”  He reached out for her hand.

 

“Oh no, you just surprised me.” She smiled, gripping his hand as he pulled her back up. He bowed his head and proceeded to pick up their swords. It was getting late and they needed to use the last minutes of sunlight to prepare themselves for the morn. After that little encounter, it was probably best to call it a day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OK. We have a problem.” Sharis announced as she walked over to Casavir who was handing his horse over to a young stable boy. Casavir turned immediately to her.

“What is it, my lady?”

“To get to Winterhold, we will have to travel on foot. Horses can't survive in the Pale district. The weather is too harsh them and there's nowhere to store them safely.

 

“Well, that's not a problem. I didn't always have a horse.” Casavir shrugged.  “I'll speak with the stable master. He might allow us to keep the horses here til we return.”  

 

“OK, want me to wait for you?” She asked as she put a foot on the steps heading towards the bridge to Windhelm.

 

“That’s alright, my lady. You go on ahead, I shall be with you shortly.” Casavir bowed his head with a gently smile. He watched as she ascended up the steps and walked towards the giant stone city. As much as he wanted to protect her, he knew it was not healthy for him to constantly shadow her. She was capable of taking care of herself. She was the Dragonborn after all - what trouble could she possibly get into in just short matter of time apart?

 

All set and arranged. Casavir had given the stable master coin in advance for their horses lodgings until they returned, supposedly it was quite a common occurrence for passing students to leave their horses here, so it was not a strange request. Casavir hurried to across the bridge, taking in the rustic architecture of the great city. It certainly was a sight to behold. If he could remember rightly, this city was the oldest in all of Skyrim, and was built by Ysgramor in honor of his son.

 

Passing through the large iron gates, he felt a strange air to the city. It’s tall walls and dark stone structure made him feel almost claustrophobic. He shrugged it off and continued towards the large building that welcomed him as soon as he stepped into the city.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE!” He heard a man shout. Casavir stopped in his tracks and a disgusting shiver ran down his back when he heard it. Like everybody else, he marched over to see what all the commotion was. His eyes widened and he felt his heart stop. There was a man fighting with someone on the ground, he was wrestling with the other person trying to get a good strike but they were thrashing around to falter every blow he attempted. He was fighting a woman… a Breton with long sun kissed, cinnamon hair.

 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” The man snarled. Gripping a handful of her long hair and swinging his fist into her face. Upon hearing the man's fist make contact with Sharis's face. Casavir leapt forward and within moments, he had pinned the man face down into the filthy cobbled street with his arms twisted behind his back.

 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Casavir bellowed. Everybody silenced when they heard the man in strange armour speak. The man grunted in pain under Casavir’s knee as a Dunmer woman picked Sharis off the ground.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. Hitting a woman like that.” The Dunmer woman hissed. Wiping the blood from the little Breton’s face. Casavir looked at her with a mixture of concern and disbelief in his eyes. He’d only left her side for a minute!

“She’s a Dunmer lover, she deserves to be treat like a Dunmer.” The man growled. Sharis jolted forward with rage writhing in her vibrant hazel eyes. Clearly ready for another round but the woman held her back as another came to help.

 

Casavir saw another man growing closer to him, most likely to aid the man he was restraining. Casavir looked up immediately, causing the man to halt and stare blankly at him.

“Would you like to be down here as well, sir?” Casavir asked in a calm yet intimidating tone. The man shook his head.

 

“Then, I suggest you step back... Now.” Casavir said, holding his steadfast glare until the man took a few steps away. This gave Casavir a few moments to survey his surrounding and to plan out his next move.

“I’m going to let you up now. Try anything - and you’ll be back down here before you have time to think.” Casavir said calmly to the man face under his knee. “Understood?”

The man stressed a nod. With great caution, Casavir slowly released the man and back up to bridge the foreboding gap between the two. The man got up and scowled disdainfully at the Paladin and then at the Sharis stood behind him.

 

“You’re lucky he was here to save you, bitch! Next time I’ll clean the gray quarter with your face.” He spat venomously. It was clear to see that it wasn’t just Sharis that got a beating.

“Yeah?! Well-!” Sharis began with her comeback but Casavir took a step towards the man and said something so quietly, she could not hear. Whatever he said, it made the man’s scowling mask fall from his face and reveal an expression of fear. The man back away and turned to abruptly rush towards the tavern, but not before shouting. “Dunmer’s whore.”

 

Casavir wanted to run after him and pound his face into the ground, but he contained himself and turned back to his lady. The crowd of onlookers began to return to their daily lives. Sharis looked up away slightly embarrassed, her black eye shut tight and swollen lip was clear to see as Casavir frowned with disapproval.

“What happened?” He demanded. “I leave your side for five minutes and-!”

“She was sticking up for me.” The Dunmer woman interrupted. “They were doing their usually bully tactics and she stepped in.”

 

Casavir looked at her waiting for some kind of confirmation, but she refused to look at him.

“I’m alright Suvaris.” Sharis sighed, wiping her bloodied nose on the back of her hand.

“For pity's sake child! What would your mother think of you if she could see you now?” The Dunmer, Suvaris asked. Sharis’s frowned deepened as she looked up at the woman, she was going to speak, but just settled in the silence and looked away again.

“C’mon, let's get you out of the cold.” The Suvaris sighed.

 

Sharis walked arm in arm with Suvaris, through the tall dark alleys leading deeper into the city. The shadows darkened the winding streets and a strong smell of sewerage overpowered their senses. Open sewer lines were running through the streets and rats ran across their path. Torn and weather flags were the only thing that were reasurance that they had not gone colourblind. Casavir’s stomach turned in disgust when he saw a group of Dunmer children playing in the rat infested streets.

“Why are children playing in such conditions?” He asked.

“Trust me, it’s safer for them down here, than in any other district of this Gods forsaken city.” Suvaris replied as they reached an wooden door. Casavir was right beside her when Sharis shuffled to him for warmth. He swung the length of his cloak around her and held her at his side as the woman knocked on the door. A hatch on the door opened and a pair of red elven eyes peered through before closing again and the lock on the other side turning.

 

“Sweet Azura! What’s happened?” The man opened the door allowing them entrance.

“Hi, Ambarys. How’s it going?” Sharis smiled with blooded teeth.

 

“She’s been getting herself into trouble again.” Suvaris answered. “Rolff was up to his usual tricks and didn’t like how Sharis was getting the better of the debate. Then he…. Well… you can see what happened.”

“Take her upstairs.” The Ambarys ordered. Glancing curiously at Casavir when he passed. Casavir bowed his head respectably towards the man and Ambrays did the same, all the while holding a curious look on his face.

 

“It isn’t all that bad.” Sharis chirpily attempted to lighten the atmosphere as they sat her down on . “Look! I got one of his sideburns.” Sharis presented short scruff of hair in her hand. Ambarys smirked, some what amused before he handed her a drink. She sipped on it carefully but winced as it went down.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me introduce you to my companion. This is Casavir; Paladin of the nine and a very dear friend. Casavir, this is Ambarys and Suvaris. Suvaris was my mothers friends and Ambarys sells the best Sujamma, all the way from Solstheim.”

“A Paladin?! In Skyrim?” Ambarys questioned. 

“Yeah, he gets that allot.” She giggled. Casavir bowed his head which unintentionally made Suvaris and Ambarys do the same. Casavir did not say a word as he removed his gauntlets and began to tend to the Dragonborn’s face.

 

“Does she always get into trouble like this?” Suvaris asked as Ambarys brought them up some more clean rags and hot water.

“Not always.” Casavir sighed. His voice sounded as though he was strangling pent up anger.

 

He would not look at her, but his work was swift. It was like Cael’s village all over again. His touch was still gentle but his movements seemed abrupt and sudden; But by the Gods, his hands felt heavenly as they touched her aching face.

“You’re mad at me. Aren’t you…?” Sharis reached for him and placed her hand on his arm. He paused for a moment, shutting his eyes as a long weighted sigh left him.

“Oh, Lady Sharis. I am not angry with you. I’m….” He broke off as his jaw muscles tensed. “I should have made you wait for me. I should have been there to protect you.” She grimaced slightly as she squeezed his arm. 

“You can’t protect me all the time Casavir - and I wouldn't like you to!”

“I should have beat him into the ground for this.” His eyes grew dark as he gestured at the black eye that was fading away by the second.

 

“Well that wouldn’t work. Rolff is the younger brother to Galmor Stone-fist. Second in command and right hand man to Jarl Ulfric.” Suvaris scoffed.

“And is the Jarl aware of all this?” Casavir asked, looking around the run down room. 

“He doesn't care. He's too concerned with this infernal war.” Ambarys replied in a snide manner.

 

Sharis winced as she slowly began to open her eye, doing so, brought her attention to something metal, shining on the shelf. Armour, Imperial armour. Ambarys followed her line of sight and gave a heavy sigh, when he realised she’d noticed.

“What's that doing here?” Ambarys didn't reply, but went over to pick it off the shelf and stuff it in a nearby barrel.

“... So Rolff was right? You're imperial spies?!” She frowned, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Keep your voice down!” Sulvaris shushed.

 

“So what? Did I just get smacked about for fending a lie?!” Sharis tried to stand but Casavir grabbed her hands, his blue eyes calmed her within seconds.

“We're not spies.” Ambarys barked. “I was… I was going to join the legion, but -.”

“If anyone saw that, Ulfric would string you up with your innards. You think things would change if the empire took hold of Windhelm?” Sharis sighed angrily. 

“I don’t know. Can’t be any worse than what we are now… I mean… Look at us! Living in squalor and filth. We can't live anywhere outside this slum; and good luck getting the guards to come down here to help! Ulfric cares about one thing - himself. How can he expect us to join his banner when he forces us to live in such sordid conditions.”  

“Has Ulfric seen all this?” Sharis asked with a solicitous tone.

 

“We've tried to get him to come down here, but he's always too busy to worry himself with our concerns.” The room fell silent. Sharis stared at the barrel where the Imperial armour was hiding, an idea brewing in her mind.

“I'll talk to him.” She announced. Ambarys scoffed. “That's very thoughtful of you, but I doubt it'll work.”

“Worth a shot. I'm not a Dunmer, he may listen to me.”

“Well, you ain't not a Nord either.” Ambarys replied.

“I was born in Skyrim. My family were born here. I am a daughter of Skyrim.” Sharis shrugged, finally rising to her feet.

 

“I shall come too.” Casavir stood tall beside her.

“No, Casavir. You stay here and rest.”

“It would be impossible for me to ‘rest’, knowing what happened last time.” Casavir replied almost instantly. She could see in his eyes there was no swaying him. She smiled warmly at him, she found this side of him quite alluring and only heightened her admiration for him. She nodded and turned to Ambarys.

“Get rid of anything Imperial. If he comes here and sees it, he’ll be on your ass quicker than a sabre cat.”

“Aye, lass. Good luck.” He nodded to them as they left the Cornerclub and making their way to the Palace of Kings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They stepped into the Palace of kings and were met by a long table, set out with metal cups and small platters of food. Maids were wandering around clearing the table after what looked like the remnants of a feast.

 

She found herself hesitating to step further but the sight of Casavir beside her gave her strength she needed. She peered over at him as he gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’m right behind you, my lady.” He whispered softly. She nodded with a grateful smile and stepped further into the hall, eyes fell on her as a group of men and women in Stormcloak armour stood around debating. A man, blonde shoulder length hair which was tied back sat upon the large stone throne on looking the entire hall. She felt his eyes on her the moment she made her way towards him. The men and women noticed this and slowly turned to see what had caught their Jarl’s attention.

 

“Jarl Ulfric.” Sharis respectfully acknowledged him, but did not bow like most would when before a noble born.

“Only a fool approaches a Jarl without summons.” The tall blonde man spoke in a rich Nordic accent. The men and women around her backed away, towards the wall to give them space.  

“Of course. I meant no disrespect, my Jarl - but I have something of great urgency I want to talk to you about.” Sharis replied. Ulfric stared at her with a cold emotionless face, as if waiting for her to continue. His deep green eyes scoured her from head to toe. His eyes met hers as they continued to hold their gaze at the Jarl - leader of the rebellion. His brows raised for a brief moment as he tilted his head slightly, gesturing for her to continue.

 

“My Jarl. I’ve come to stress the urgent need for you to renovate the Dunmers living district. Theres-”

“Oh for the love of Talos, not this again!” The large man wearing a bear's pelt groaned. “In case you haven't noticed - Breton. We are at war. We don’t have time for the gray-skins problems.”

“Is your name Ulfric?” She asked quickly, leaving the man puzzled by her request.

“I am Galmar Stone-fist. Seco-”

 

“Ah, well I came to speak to Jarl Ulfric. So please refrain from butting in.” She interrupted quickly. Gaining the amused titterings of the men and women watching.

She knew very well who this man was. Eldest Brother of Rolff stone-fist, Galmar. Just as racist and hard hearted as his brother. With as much charm to make an ice wraith blush. Galmar scowled, clearly disgusted in the Breton’s audacious attitude.

“You ignorant lil witch.” He growled taking a step forward. Sharis suddenly felt Casavir’s protective aura around her as he came to stand beside her. His hand gripping the hilt of the knife at his hip.

 

“Galmar, calm yourself.” Ulfric turned back to Sharis with the same deadpan expression, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“Thank you, sir. As I was saying… I am aware that you have been invited to see the living conditions of the gray quarters before; you have not been able to because you are busy with the war efforts. But I must insist that you-”

“Who are you to insist anything to the King of Skyrim.” Galmar snarled, his voice sounding like disturbed gravel.

 

“I wasn’t talking to you - so shut up!” Sharis barked angrily. Gasps filled the room as she stared at the second in command. His hand on his weapon as he took another step forward. Casavir too. But Galmor stopped for a brief moment as he looked over at Jarl Ulfric who chuckled, amused by her undaunted display.

 

“Ha, I remember you. You're the Breton who was next to me in the cart, when we were on our way to Helgen, to meet the headsman’s axe. If I remember rightly: you gave those Imperial dogs a hard time. Had to knock you out.” Ulfric smirked at the memory. “But I know you for another reason... One of my men recognised you from Kynesgrove. You’re the Dragonborn… Are you not?”

 

Sharis immediately felt weighed down by all the eyes that were on her. The room filled with incoherent mutters from the people in the room.  _ Oh fuck sake. _ She pursed her lips tight shut. Galmar’s scowl fell from his face as he waited for her reply. She took a deep breath and stood tall.

“Yes. I am. But I’m not here about that. I’m here to beg for you to come and see the living conditions of your people.”

“The gray skins are not his people.”

“They live within his walls, therefore - They ARE. His. people!”

“Sharis.” Casavir breathed a soft whisper without moving his lips. The air turned electric. Many of the men and women of the court were still muttering, grinning, as they counted down the seconds for the scrap that was bound to take place.

But Ulfric casually rose from his seat, walking down the stone steps towards the Dragonborn. She felt Casavir’s perceptive vigilance shift toward the coming threat of the Jarl. She knew too well that Casavir would not hesitate to strike if Ulfric dared raise a hand to harm her. She calmly placed a hand on Casavir’s arm to reassure him. He glanced at her for a moment before his grip on the hilt loosened.

 

“Very well, Dragonborn. Let’s go and visit the Gray quarters.” Ulfric said, calmly striding past her. She warily took a step forward to follow him, she wasn’t expecting him to to go right now! Or even for her to be his guide! Nevertheless, she proceeded to follow until she was stood by his side. Casavir’s heavy metal armour could be heard following, she turned to see Casavir AND Galmar following behind. Ulfric breathed a nasally chuckle before he spoke. 

 

“Galmor, why don’t you go and see if you can find someone to warm your bed tonight.” Ulfric suggested, lightly ordering his friends brief dismissal.

“You. Trust this Breton?” He asked with a voice of bewilderment.

“If she had wanted to kill me, she would have done it by now.” Ulfric responded with a jestful tone to his friend. “Shall we?” He added, turning his attention to Sharis. She turned to Casavir who was still stood there.

“I’ll be fine.” She said with a reassuring smile. He bowed his head slowly, still holding his crystal gaze at her as he did so. Turning to Ulfric she smiled warily and nodded, before walking alongside him out the large metal doors.

  
  



	22. A change in the wind

They walked silently down the courtyard leading into the city. She wasn’t sure what to say to him as he strode confidently alongside her. The guards bowed their head as he passed and gawked at the little Breton who was walking with him. She could almost see their gob-smacked faces underneath their clunky helmets. She clutched the sides of her fraying robe to contain her fidgeting fingers, her eyes flitting around as if the words, to strike up a conversation, were just going to fall from the sky.

“So, Dragonborn. What brings you to my city? Was it solely because you have interest in the Dunmer who live here?” Ulfric’s voice pierced the awkward silence. Only now she didn’t know how much of her quest she was willing to disclose to him.

“No. Just, passing through really.” She answered.

“Really. So where are you heading?” He pushed for more.

“Winterhold.”

“No doubt, the mages college?” Ulfric guessed, glancing at her robes underneath the salvages bits of armour. She nodded, unwilling to share anymore information than that. Not that he would be interested in her quest, he was too infatuated with the pathetic war that was ravaging Skyrim.

She was grateful that he lacked interest in mages and asked no more. She was even more grateful when they finally reached the bridge onlooking the slums. From there, they could see all. The gray quarters in all its squalid glory.

“So… err… As you can see, from just here. The district needs serious attention. I’ve been informed that even the guards are no help when trouble arises. The Dunmers children only feel safe playing in these streets because they are targeted everywhere else in the city. The open sewer line running through the street is hazardous to everyone’s health and many of the people here fall ill because of it.” Sharis began trying her best to put on her persuading voice.

“I suppose that’s understandable.” Ulfric simply replied, he didn’t seem too impressed; so she pressed on.

“Their homes are in terrible conditions too. The cold creeps in through the cracks in the wood they salvage to fix the old structure. But their efforts are futile.”

“These issues should be discussed with Jolief, my steward.”

“They’ve tried. All he says is he’ll speak to you about the matter. Yet nothing happens!” She began to feel the niggling frustration building inside her. She could never understand how people could be so arrogant to peoples suffering.

“Encase you haven’t noticed, Dragonborn. I have a war to win. I’m fighting for the freedom of Skyrim and it’s people.”

“So you’re going to neglect these people?” She asked bluntly. Finally! She got a response as he frowned at her.

“Most of these people are refugees from Morrowind.” Ulfric huffed.

“They’re behind your walls. Therefore they’re your people.” She ground her teeth. She could almost feel Casavir’s voice of reason creeping towards her, but it wouldn’t help now. She needed to be careful. Yes, but she needed to peel back the Jarls apathetic layers… this could end two ways. She succeeds, or she fails. She didn’t have much interest in losing.

“If they helped with our cause, then maybe I would be more concerned with their well being!” Ulfric snapped.

“Why would they help?!” She scowled, she once again could almost hear her Paladin whispering plea to calm herself, but it was too late as the words took flight.

“Answer this Ulfric. If you lived like this… and the Jarl asked YOU to follow his banner. Would you? When he leaves you to live in squalor. When he allows the other citizens to shun and abuse you, and your family. When you beg for his help and he turns away. Would you let your sons, your daughters fight for him? When YOU know, the man they’d be fighting for, secretly despised them.” Ulfric fell silent as his eyes narrowed. His glare left her feeling like she was standing before a firing squad. He stepped closer as he turned to her. He may be the Jarl, but Sharis wasn’t going to let that bate her determination to see these people shown fairness. She braced herself for Ulfric to lose his temper, but instead he breathed a heavy sigh through his broad nose and ground his teeth. Sharis paused for a moment, leaving time for the air settle before she spoke.

“Yes, Many of these people are not from here. But… just look. Down there.” She pointed to a small group of Dunmer children playing on the steps below them. “They were born in Windhelm – Skyrim. They. are. The sons and daughters of Skyrim. Skyrim is not just made up of Nords, it’s rich in diversity and we should be embracing it. Not shunning it away to rot in dark alleys – excuse the pun.”

“And you… where do you hail from?” Ulfric frowned at Sharis with an intimidating stare, but Sharis smirked and simply replied. “I am a daughter of Skyrim.” She smiled softly and looked over the ledge to wave when the children looked up and waved at her.

“… You, care about these Dunmer. Don’t you?” Ulfric said as he stared at her.

“Of course I do. They’re people. Your people. No matter if they’re Mer, Nord, Argonian… whatever! They’re your people. Your father took them under his wing after the red mountain – and now they’re forced live like this. Children playing in alleys riddled with filth and disease. Open sewer lines running past their homes. They constantly under attack from racial abuse, even in sleep they heard racial slurs being yelled at them from the streets!” She paused before she let her mouth run away with her. Finally embracing Casavir’s calm demeanor that still lingered around her.

“So, what would you have me do?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest. Sharis raised her brows curiously, was he seriously asking for advice?

“Help them. Listen to them, respect them… same goes for the Argonians.” She added. “Respect is not given, It’s earned. You know this.” Ulfric stared at her as she spoke, not a hint of emotion on his face. But his green eyes stared as though trying to solve a puzzle in his mind.

“Very well. I’ll have Jorlief see to the matter.” He finally spoke.

“Do I have your word on that?” Sharis asked forwardly. Ulfric nodded. “You have my word.”

“Thank you.” She smiled broadly, in doing so Ulfric’s expression shifted ever so slightly as he bowed his head, never loosing eye contact.

“Well… I should return to Casavir.”

“Ah yes. I’m sure your husband will be concerned of your whereabouts.” Ulfric added.

“Uh… no. No, Casavir isn’t my husband. He’s my companion.” She corrected him. Ulfric’s eyes narrowed again, as he now looked at her with curiosity.

“So, you’re not spoken for….?” He asked. His question brought her a sudden discomfort and her smile fell. Some reason she couldn’t speak, she needed to reply but the words got stuck in her throat so she shook her head instead. Ulfric’s green eyes held a strange air to them as they scoured her again.

Suddenly an ice wind blew hard through the winding alleys and against them. Ulfric seemed unaffected by Skyrim’s icy breath, but Sharis sure as hell felt it. Especially when the fastening on her flimsy cloak snapped and dragged her cloak off into the wind.

“Shit!” She gasped, trying to catch it but it was too late. It slipped from her reach and followed the wind current down into the grey quarter, her heart sank as she watched it land in a pile of filth.

“Oh come on!” She groaned. “Well. That’s gone. I’ll have to get another one tomorrow.” She sighed turning back to the Jarl.

She looked up to see him pulling the thick black pelt from his back and the toss it around her shoulders. As he went to fasten it, he yanked it hard, which forced her to collide into his chest. She stiffened awkwardly, her hands balled into fists in level with her chin, pressed against his body, she stared through him and dead ahead.

“Th-Thanks.” She managed to say as she took a step back from him. Without his cloak and just his noble clothes she could see how strongly built he was. He had the physique of a warrior and the way he held himself complimented his powerful stature. Even though he was clearly older with his weathered appearance, he was quite easy on the eyes. Still, his sudden boldness made her feel uneasy and she couldn’t wait to get back to her blue eyed knight.

“Lets return to the palace.” He bowed his head and offered his arm. She stared at it for a moment before charily looping her arm around his. Under his quilted nobleman’s coat she could feel him flexing his bicep muscles. Impressive – she would admit, but it was almost like he was trying to impress her.

They walked slowly, (slower than she wanted) towards the Palace of Kings. She couldn’t be happier to see it, but even happier when she saw her Paladin waiting patiently outside.

“Tell me, how long will you be staying in the city?” Ulfric asked, slowing further. As if purposely delaying her escape.

“We’ll be leaving in the morning. Why? You planning on just forgetting this evening?” Sharis raised a brow. Ulfric flashed her a charming smirk and shook his head.

“It would be foolish of me, to forget the day I met you.” He replied. “I would like to invite you to stay at the Palace during your stay.”

She looked ahead as she considered his offer. She could see Casavir push his back off the wall and stand taller upon seeing her. A warm bed would be nice. Casavir was tired, and worn out from days on the road. He wouldn’t admit it, but she knew, there was no doubt in her mind that he would sleep like a log tonight. Still, she didn’t like the messages Ulfric was giving out. She could sense there was a reason for his charm. Not to mention the tense waves Casavir was giving off when he stood beside her. He wouldn’t be able to rest properly with worry.

Casavir’s eyes were fixed on Ulfric, who upon seeing this, decided to exercise his position by placing his other hand on hers. She hoped Casavir would forgive her for this, but she couldn’t… _sorry Casavir._

“That is very kind of you, my Jarl. But we already have accommodation for the night.” She quickly answered.

Casavir bowed his head respectably as they drew closer, his eyes on her but then snapped to Ulfric. His chest puffed up behind his chest plate, a hand gripping his belt tightly as his jaw muscles taut.

“Very well. I shall leave you here, Dragonborn…. I didn’t catch your name?” Ulfric asked, his gruff voice was tender as he turned to face her and began to unfasten his cloak from her; again invading her personal space.

“… Sharis.” She replied, glancing over at her Paladin whose eyes were glued at the Jarl. Ulfric smirked charmingly and threw his cloak over his arm and grabbed her hand. She froze to the spot, stunned by his forwardness.

“Until next time, Sharis.” He purred softly before his lips descended upon her hand. His lips were rough and brash, nothing like the Paladins gentleness. His deep green eyes held her attention as he did so. He finally released her hand and nodded his head to Casavir, who returned the gesture as Ulfric left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Let’s go.” She announced abruptly the moment the Jarl vanished behind the closing door. She reached for the Paladin’s arm and frog marched him in the direction of the Gray quarter.

“My lady, please…! What happened to your cloak?” Casavir ask as she shivered through another icy wind.

“Stupid thing blew off and landed in the open sewer. Ain’t no way in hell, I’m using that now!” She replied, her fingers weeding through a gap in his armour to the thick padding underneath, that resonated with his warmth.

They turned the corner towards an alley leading to the bridge she had just been with Ulfric. Casavir pulled her to a stop and unfastened his cloak, before casting it around her shoulders. He was much more gentle with her than the Jarl. He did not yank her against him, nor did he attempt to overpower her with his presence. Not like she would complain if Casavir did. If anything, she couldn’t of anything better, than to have him pull her firmly against him.

“My lady. Did he hurt you?” Casavir asked, gently resting both hands on her shoulders.

“No.” She shook her head. Casavir’s eyes scanned her quickly before breathing a sigh of relief. She stared at him curiously, her body one step away from being pressed against the wall.

“Were you worried about me?” She asked. A smile bashfully revealing itself.

“Of course I was! After your tiff with the second hand, I worried he was luring you away to…” Casavir stopped before releasing her and running a hand through his thick raven black hair. She bit down on her lip to hide her smile. Her heart fluttered with the thought that Casavir cared so much, not like she didn’t already know.

“Oh, Casavir. I’m alright.” She said softly. Damn it she couldn’t hide the smirk on her face. Even when Casavir turned to her with a stern expression.

“My lady, please. If I may be so bold, as to ask anything of you. Please. Stop trying to anger people? We already have dragons to fight. We don’t need to Stormcloak army on our backs.” Casavir groaned, his cheeks beginning to flush when he noticed her smile.

“OK. I’m sorry.” She said. “Thank you, for being worried about me, it’s sweet to know you care.”

“Of course I-” He began, but froze. She reached up and hooked her fingers onto the collar of his chest plate. His gaping wide eyes glittered with vulnerability as she began to pull him towards her. Some reason his body complied and began to lean itself forward. He wanted to pull away, but his body wasn’t responding to any instructions he was giving it. Her other hand reached for the back of his head and pulled him towards her face.

_Oh God’s!_

He threw his hands up and pushed against the wall, above her head. Ceasing his movements towards her, but she was at perfect height now. She pushed her toes into the ground and raised herself up to his face. He shut his eyes tight, in unbidden fright. Expecting her lips to finally meet his. No, no he wasn’t ready! But before he could protest, he felt her soft lips against his face. One, two three. Soft and gentle, her enticing lips pressed feather kisses against his cheekbone. Each touch sent an overwhelming burst of uncontrollable emotion through his body. The sensation almost blew him away as his knees almost caved from the feeling. Her lips left his face as she released him, and smiled sweetly up at her blushing knight.

“C’mon. A hot meal and a warm bed will fix you right up.” She said, apparently oblivious to his reaction. She smiled, ducking under his arm and slowly walking on. Casavir pulled himself straight and nervously adjusted his armour, before simply nodding and catching up to her.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I turned down Ulfric’s offer of staying at the Palace for the night.” She said.

“Eh.. N-no, tha-that’s quite alright.” He stuttered. She glanced at him with a soft smirk. She knew it had flustered him and for some reason she was thrilled that it did. She bundled up the cloak at the bottom to avoid it dipping in the filth of the grey quarter as they headed to the Gnisis Cornerclub.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Sharis! You absolute beauty!” Ambarys howled as he picked up the little Breton and spun her around.

“I can’t believe he gave you his word!” Malthyr piped merrily. “This calls for a celebration! Lemme get the Sujamma!”

“Oi! Get their room set up before you go drinking yourself arse over tit!” Ambarys barked after him. The cornerclub was alive tonight. They did have something to celebrate after all.

“It’s a double bed. That’s not a problem though, right?” Ambarys asked as he briefly turned to Sharis, before charging after his friend.

A double. She’d be sharing a bed… with Casavir?!

“That’s not a problem.” Casavir answered, she spun around to look at him as he stood behind her.

“I shall sleep on the floor, my lady. You may have the bed.” Casavir reassured her. Assuming her wide eyed gaze was with worry. She would have normally been compliant with his suggestion, but she could tell he needed a warm bed and soft furs as much as she did.

“Don’t be daft. We’ll share. You’re sleeping next to me.” She said with a playful yet firm tone.

“Bu… my lady. I cannot. That would be extremely improper of me.” Casavir blushed a deep red upon realizing he’d trapped himself.

“Cas.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll sleep in my bed roll. You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to steal your virtue.” She teased. Casavir was still blooming a deep rose red in his cheeks. But he nodded, looking down at his feet and licked his lower lip. _Suppose that seems reasonable,_ He thought.

 

Malthyr came skipping down the stairs to tell them their room was ready. He walked them to their room and handed them each a yellow clay bottle before slapping them both on the back and hollering. “Have fun!”

Casavir watched him walk away before turning back to Sharis who was already in the room and stripping off her bits of armour.

“Which side do you want?” She asked as Casavir stood awkwardly by the door.

“Emm. The one closest to the door, if I may?” Casavir spoke nervously. She nodded and gestured to the bed for him to sit down. As he lowered himself down on the bed, with his back turned to her. Her silhouette cast on the wall before him implored for her attention. He gulped hard when his eyes uncontrollably gawked at her shadow undress itself.

“Don’t look OK?” Her angelic, sultry voice ordered. He looked down at his feet the moment he heard her, in fear she noticed him watching her on the wall.

“I’ll wait outside.” He began to stand.

“No! Don’t move!” She yelped. “Just don’t turn round OK?”

He nodded slowly as he sat back down on the bed. His downcast eyes begged him to peer back up as he heard item after item of her clothing fall to the floor. Unable to control his hankering need to see her, he looked back to the wall where her silhouette danced around.

He could see her. Her shape, her lovely hourglass figure. His jaw fell loose as he felt a gnawing urge to turn around and gaze at the divine beauty that was casting these alluring shapes before him. His mouth was moist, he licked his lips as he craved to turn round and throw her on the bed. Become the man he wanted to be for her. His mouth watered, upon thinking of kissing her lips, her body… every inch of it. He craved to taste the salt of her sweat on her soft skin. To gently bite the plum of those deliciously tempting lips that released such hypnotic music to him. What sweet sounds would she make, if he were to explore her body with his mouth? If he laid his hips between her thighs and….

He felt himself throb under his armour, but he didn’t try to contain it until she spoke again. “OK. Your turned.” He felt her land on the bed as her silhouette melted away.

He looked down and nodded. Rising slowly and awkwardly from the bed for a better angle to reach his armours buckles. He peered over his shoulder to see her sat on the bed in her tunic and trousers, her long waves pulled to one side as she began to comb all the knots out. He felt a prickling anger run through him when he thought of Bishop having the pleasure of running his fingers through those lovely sun kissed locks. He would often catch a waft of her lavender soap as the wind would blow through her hair.

His heart ached with familiar longing to hold her in his arms. Guilt pained him as he accepted his desire to for her. Yes, he wanted her. His damn vow was falling void each day he was with her. He couldn’t fight it, nor could he act on it. He bit down hard on his lip until he felt his eyes water from the painful sting. Only then did he begin to remove his armour.

 

“Do you think Ulfric will keep his word?” She asked. His heart swelled upon hearing the melodic tune.

“I’m not sure, my lady.” He responded with a thick gruff tone.

“I hope so. I hate to see people living like this.” She sighed.

“Well, in all fairness, my lady. At least they have a roof over their head.” Casavir replied, sighing deeply. Grateful for the conversation to break him away from his selfish want.

“Yeh, but they shouldn’t have to live in these conditions!” Sharis scoffed.

“I understand, my lady. Truly. But even in these conditions it has only made them stronger, and banded them together to form a stable, close-knit community. They look after one another, and they work together.” Casavir placed his steel armour on the floor by his side of the bed and placed the leathers and chain mail on the chair. With his back turned to her, he quickly glanced over to make sure she wasn’t looking before her readjusted his involuntary excitement throbbing in his trews. Once satisfied with it’s concealment, her returned to sit himself  back down on the bed.

“They don’t have to worry about… where they’ll be safe to rest their head for the night? Where their next meal will come from? Or will they go hungry..?” Casavir stared at the wall, as though he was lost in thought, a memory. Sharis had turned round and stared at him curiously as his mournful tone, full of empathy, caught her attention.

“…You sound as though you can relate to that…?” Sharis spoke softly. She watched as he jerked his head back down to the floor and fiddled with his greaves.

“I know this world can be a cruel place.” He replied lowly.

She wanted to bleed more from him, he never spoke of his past and that last comment had sparked the fires of curiosity in her mind. But it was not the time, she could tell in the tone of his voice he wished to disclose no more of the subject.

She began to wonder what kind of life had he come from. He was well spoken, very well spoken. He had etiquette and prestige, but sometimes she would catch glimmers of something deeper, something more to him that he refused to expose. Nevertheless she felt her heart ache for him. She shuffled on her knees towards him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, his warmth under this cotton shirt was inviting to her cold fingers. He flinched at first and looked over his shoulder at her. Again with frightened eyes, she just smiled serenely in aid to comfort him.

“That’s why good people like you exist.” She said, ever so softly as to not startle him. His wide eyes fell placid as he sighed.

“And you are the light that I follow, my fair lady.” He replied. His baritone voice resonated in the sound waves and captivated her.

 _Oh, why did you have to be a Paladin?_ She wanted to ask. She wanted an end to this damn journey, she never wanted to be this warrior of legend. But if she could have a choice, she wouldn’t change a thing. Because she would have never met this beautiful, kind, intelligent, loving man that she adored so much. She smiled and shuffled closer, throwing her arms over his shoulders as she rested against his back. She cooed softly as she nestled her cheek against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers.

 

“I’m so glad I met you.” She muttered.

“And I you.” His voice almost turned to a whisper.

Their embrace was abruptly ended by a sharp hard knock on the door and a frightened Ambarys came bursting in.

“Ambarys! What the- ?!” Sharis cried in panic.

“Sharis. There’s Ulfric’s guards at the door looking for you.” Ambrays said quickly.

Mixed emotions ran through her at that moment. Confusion, shock, panic, anger. What in Oblivion were they doing here?

“We must have been followed.” Casavir quickly rose to his feet, throwing on his chainmail.

“Have they said what they want with me?” Sharis asked. Pulling on her boots. Ambarys shook his head. “Just that they’re looking for the Dragonborn. And they seemed to think you’re their person.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Ambrays froze, his red eleven eyes widened further as he stared at her incredulously. “You? You’re the…”

“We’ll talk about that later.” She waved her hand to bat away the verge of another topic of discussion. “Quick question. Have you hidden the imperial gear?”

“It’s sitting at the bottom of the windhelm docks.” He replied, still baffled by all the sudden events. She nodded and looked over to Casavir who was fastening the buckles to his chainmail vest. He gave her a quick nod and she headed out the door followed by her Paladin.

“Casavir, if they arrest me. Do not attack.” She ordered as they descended down the old creaky stairs.

“I cannot promise that, my lady. I vowed I would protect you.” Casavir replied sternly.

“I mean it Cas. Please. If they’ve come to arrest me, just let them take me.” She turned to him on the stairs. His eyes seemed unwavered to her command as they held a calm air to them.

“My fair lady. Let us hope it will not come to that.” Casavir walked calmly down the last few steps and held out his hand for her when he the reached bottom. “Shall we?” Sharis looked at Casavir, she was unsure whether he had accepted her request but his sudden calmness comforted her. She placed her hand in his as he gripped hers gently and walked with her down to the ground floor.

 

The once loud and joyous tavern was now deathly silent. Dunmer folk were spaced around the room as five heavy armoured Windhelm guards stood in the centre. She stood at the archway and looked at them for a moment, gesturing Casavir to hang back for a moment as she stepped forward.

“I’ve been told you’re looking for me.” Sharis stated as she walked cautiously closer.

“Are you Sharis? The one they call Dragonborn?”

“Aye. What of it?” She frowned curiously.

“Jarl Ulfric, has instructed us to deliver this to you.” The lead guard stepped aside as another came towards her. She took a step back and in doing so made Casavir appear at her side. The guard was holding a rolled up fur. A deep brown, she stepped forward, towards the guard as he held it out for her. She warily accepted it and stepped back again. Still holding her gaze up at the soldiers.

“Jarl Ulfric, wishes you safe travels. May your sword stay sharp and your tongue remain sharper.” The soldier bowed his head.

“Tell Ulfric I say thank you… and… I trust he will keep to our agreement.” She replied. The guards bowed their heads and turned back for their swift exit. Once they left, the tense atmosphere in the air shifted to one of relief and curiosity. All eyes in the room fell on her as she stood staring at the bundle in her arms.

 

“So, you’re the Dragonborn?” Ambarys announced, rather surprised in his own words.

“Yep.” She answered as she walked over and placed the bundle of fur on the counter. She carefully unrolled it to find a goat skin bag, inside was an abundance of  fresh of supplies for their travels. Cheese, bread, apples, salted meats and a handful of potent healing and stamina potions. This was all bundled inside a leather sack that had been wrapped in the fur.

“Azura’s Grace, why didn’t you tell us?”

She shrugged. “It’s not something that just hops into conversation.“ She said as she inspected the fur. It was fine fur, it felt almost like silk as she ran her fingers along it. She pulled the sack off it and gave it a shake. It was a cloak. She could tell by the fine tailoring it was not one she would ever find in the market – and even if she did, it would not be cheap!

“That’s a fine cloak. Generous of the Jarl.” Maltyr said. “You must have given a good impression.”

“Looks like he’s trying to impress Sharis, if you me.” Ambarys added, crossing his arms as he came to rest over the counter. Sharis looked up at Ambarys with a puzzled face, yet silently considering what he was saying. She glanced over at her Paladin who just stood silently, his eyes downcast. She was flattered that the Jarl was showing interest. But in all honesty, he gave her the creeps.

Without warning, her eyes suddenly grew heaven, like an irritating urge to blink, her eyes shut. She saw something, as though looking through another’s eyes. A surge of energy and great power flowed through her body. She saw mountains, covered with snow as the two moons shone their light upon them, she was looking down at the world from above, the icy wind blowing against her face. Down before her, she saw a large structure, peppered with twinkling orange lights. She was looking at Windhelm from above. She was familiar to the sense of power she was feeling. It was a dragons spirit, she could see a dragon approaching. The vision vanished the moment she opened her eyes and she was back in the cornerclub with her friends.

She turned her head to Casavir who was now stood by her side. His arms hooked around her back, looking down at her with a concern brimming into his blue eyes.

“My lady? Are you…?” He began to speak but when a chorus of screams filled the night air from outside, he silenced.

“Dragon.” She breathed, dropping the cloak to the floor as she ran for the door.

“My lady!” Casavir ran after her. The night sky was pure black, not a star or moon to see. It was strange and unnerving. People were running around screaming, running in fright and glancing up at the sky.

“Inside, NOW!” Sharis grabbed a mother clutching a baby and ushered her into the corner club. More people, Nords, Dunmer, all followed inside the stone building. “Ambarys! The basement!” She shouted over their heads before she ran into the alley. Casavir followed quick on her heels and grabbed at her hand tightly. She spun around and looked at him.

“My lady. You need your armour.” Casavir shouted through the frightened crowd. This was not a plea, but a demand. One, she didn’t have time to obey.

“Don’t worry about me. I need you to help get theses people to safety!” She shook her head.

“But my la-”

“That’s an order Paladin?!” She barked, ripping her hand from his. He was shocked and taken back but he nodded after finally composing himself.

“Please be careful, my lady” He said. His eyes were oozing with worry but he knew he couldn’t abandon an order, nor could he solely protect her. Windhelm needed the Dragonborn.

Stood on the steps she was perfectly aligned with his height, she stepped towards him leant in to kiss his cheek when a screaming woman made him turn his face. He turned back to face her one last time, before he was going to follow out her order. But soft velvet lips touched his. A surge of energy pulsed like a bolt of lightning through every nerve in his body, grounding him to the spot as the world around him burst into colours. His heart swelled with excitement and fear. But just as quickly her kiss had came, it was gone. She quickly pulled away and gasped, her face a deep shade of red, she looked flustered and annoyed.

“I’m sorry! I-” Sharis stammered.

“N-no. it’s fine.” Casavir grabbed her hand that had rested against his padded chainmail vest.

“I was aiming for your cheek!” She tried to justify actions.

“I know… It’s alright, truly.” He replied earnestly. His body was fighting for it’s freedom at that moment, to pull her in and kiss her with much more passion. Those velvet lips were like the finest wine to an alcoholic. He had tasted the forbidden fruit, and now his body craved for more. But the Thu’um of Ulfric’s voice in the city made him realise now wasn’t the time. “Go, my lady.”

“Come find me as soon as you’re done.” She ordered as she ran off to swim against the current of the frightened citizens.

 

As she ran through the cold night, she cast her ebonyflesh armour to protect herself for the fight.  _Why now? Why not in the day when I can fucking see?!_ She thought as she pushed her way to the stone quarter. Guards were armed with bows, nocking arrows and firing towards the dragon perched upon the Candlehearth hall.

“Dovakiin.” It snarled turning its attention to her the moment she came into sight. It inhaled sharply and breathed flames towards her. Quickly, she held her hands up and warded herself from the flames, but the heat was intense; turning the snow at her feet to a puddle of water and then evaporating within moments.

Before the Dragon could take flight, she built a thu’um in her throat and blasted the dragon off the roof and fumbling to the ground. With the snow that still remained on the ground, she beckoned it with her alteration skill and formed it into a long I’ve spike. Firing it at bullet speed with a few swipes of her hands. The dragon sounded a rattling scream as the spike penetrated its wing. Pinning it to the stone wall momentarily, until a sound of tearing leather was heard as the dragon ripped its wing to free itself.

“Alduin, will devour your soul! And I will devour your flesh!” The Dragon cackled, thundering through the street towards them. She waved to the men to back up behind her as she warded another blaze of firey breath. When her ward dropped she was pulled harshly away from a snapping set of teeth.

She looked over to her rescuer, expecting to see Casavir, but was met by blonde hair and green eyes. Ulfric.

“Fighters with me!” He boomed as he lead a legion of guards towards the dragon. It spun its tail round and cleaned out a fair few as the rest charged. Sharis needed to do something otherwise they get themselves all killed. Before she knew it the dragon was crawling over the Candlehearth hall, abandoning it’s current opponents for the bigger prize. Sharis.

She leapt to safety as it brought its spiked tail down into the ground where she once stood.

“Fight me Dovakin. Meet your death.” It growled.  Clambering towards her. She was spent of her magic and her body was not ready to speak its thu’um yet. She tried to get to her feet but a sharp pain shot up her body from her leg. There was something metal, skewered through her thigh. _So much for ebony skin,_ she whimpered, scurrying along the stoned street as she faced its mighty jaws. His hot breath reeked of blood and death.

Suddenly a great sword came shooting through the air like an oversized arrow. The dragon reared back and gave another sound shattering shrill as it speared into the bridge of its snout. She recognized the sword instantly, and breathed a sigh of relief when Casavir was suddenly beside her and was bridally carrying her to safety.

She looked behind to see a column of flames catching up to them. She yelped and held up her hand, using what little magicka she had left to ward off the flames, but Casavir didn’t waste time finishing the whole set of steps leading to the cemetery and jumped down to the ground below, loosing his footing and stumbling to his knees.

She felt the cold snow on her back as her skin returned to normal and Casavir towered over her to shelter her from the heat emanating from the beam of hot flames above them. In fear the flames would cook him, she reached out and pulled him close to her, her other hand held up a ward.

The flames vanished and she could hear Ulfric defending against the dragon that was nearing. She heard a thundering shout as Ulfric used what dragons voice he knew. Good, this gave her some time as she suddenly became aware of the pain in her leg. Casavir grunted and pulled her back off the floor. He sat her down on a stone and rested his hands either sides of her knees to catch his breath.

“My hero.” She giggled exasperated from the close call. “Are you alright?” She asked grabbing his face and checking him over. He grabbed her hands firmly as his flint blue eyes met hers.

“No more sweet rolls.” He panted. Making her giggle again at her puffed out Paladin.

“Be still, my lady. Your bleeding.” Casavir added as he cautiously began to attend to the shard of metal embedded into her leg. She cried out as pain shot through her body, but it quickly vanished as he pulsed a surge of yellow restoration to soothe her as he removed the debris.

She breathed sharply upon the sudden sensation, similar to absorbing a dragons soul – but sharing this moment felt so much more raw. Breathing heavily and with beads of sweat glistening on his brow. Again sucking in his bottom lip to bite on as he healed her. She couldn’t believe she had touched those wonderful lips. She could see the adrenaline radiating from him. The pain in her leg vanished and it twitched at its rebirth.

“How does that feel? Can you stand?” He asked. Tossing the piece of metal aside. She grabbed his shoulders as he helped her to her feet. It was almost like the metal had never been there! She nodded and turned to the echoing roar that filled the night air.

“You ready Cassie?” She asked. Conjuring her ebony flesh again.

“Always, my lady.” He nodded.

“Let’s get your sword back!”


	23. A Frozen Rose

“Sneaking over the icy docks again?” Shahvee chuckled from when she caught her mid climb over the stone jetty. 

 

“it's quicker this way. Don't tell.” She giggled. Hopping over onto the thick ice patch of land on the other side. 

 

“I didn't see anything.” the Argonian winked. “Go quickly.” 

 

Sharis quickly grabbed Casavir’s arm and hurried on to the vast sea of snow. Casavir’s brows twitched quizzingly at her before he spoke. 

 

“My lady. Is this not a legal route?”

 

“.... No? Well, it's legal - as long as you don't get caught.” She winked. Casavir frowned and pulled on their linked arms. “So you lied?”

 

“Oh Casavir, please don’t start! There's no law that says you can't do it. The guards just get annoyed with me when I do.” She groaned. “You wanna go the long way round?” He shook his head, his disapproving expression remained but he blinked slowly before responding. 

 

“I only wish for you to be honest with me.” Casavir mumbled. She frowned, concerned. He'd been so strange ever since the dragon attack. He'd been distant again and lost in thought.

 

 

Once they had defeated the dragon. She had been wounded during the fight, and had been picked off the floor by Ulfric, who demanded she see a healer. Sparks almost flew through the air as Casavir demanded for her to be returned to him. When Ulfric refused, Casavir threatened to cut down any man who stood in his way. It had shocked her at first. (Considering his request to not anger people earlier that day.) But it also flattered her. The Paladin had carried her back to the cornerclub, even though she was perfectly capable of walking and he’d carried her to bed. After a hot meal and a chat with Ambarys, she had fallen asleep with Casavir laid rigid beside her, and had woken in the morning to find him in his bed roll on the floor. 

 

Was it that kiss? Had he grown tired of her playful ways? 

 

“Casavir, what's wrong? You've been acting strange ever since last night.” She asked as they walked alongside one another in the snow. His beautiful blue eyes darkened as a strange emotion lingered in them. He looked ahead and simply replied. “I am fine, my lady. I appreciate your concern, but you must not worry about me.” 

 

“Yeah, well I do worry about you.” She quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “I want you to be able to talk to me. Like I talk to you. Hells,  I bombard you with all my worries, but you never tell me anything.” She felt his grip loosen on her hand as she spoke and with it, her heart sank; but this only made her grip tighter, refusing to let him go. “I want you to be open with me. Are you mad at me? Have I done something wrong? Was it the kiss? It was an accident!”

  
  


“You have done nothing wrong, my lady. Please do not think I am mad at you. I just…” He paused looking nervously at the fallen snow, his grip returning to his hand.

  
  


“Go on.” She gently shook his hand, to urge him on. 

  
  


“... It's Ulfric, my lady. I do not like the way he was looking at you. It was almost like you were a prize horse.” Her lips pursed as she nodded slowly, silently agreeing as they began to wade through the snow again. “OK? Go on.”

  
  


“And our talk with Ambarys? About Ulfric, attempting to impress you; Luring you into the side of the rebellion. I just…” 

  
  


“Ey, what did I say before? I don't want anything to do with this STUPID war.” She snapped. 

  
  


“I know, but I worry about the Jarl’s intentions. What if he doesn't want you for that reason…? I mean… When you said he asked if you were spoken for? What if… what if he were to propose?” 

  
  


“Woah! Casavir!” She exclaimed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing from him. She had cringed at the thought of Ulfric taking an interest, but to hear her thoughts echo from Casavir was just too much!

  
  


“Please, my lady. I only wish to voice my opinion. If he were to propose... and you were to accept? He would gain a massive amount of supporters. Plus the legion would have reason to fear him more.”

  
  


“Eh, no. Cas, I'm Breton. Ulfric is one for Nords.”

  
  


“He is one for the sons and daughters of Skyrim, my lady. You are a daughter of Skyrim.” He replied. She scoffed and shook her head.

 

“Yeah. Ok. But many of his men and women behind his banner believe the whole ‘Skyrim is for the Nords’ bullshit. You think they'd be happy to follow him if he was to marry a Breton? Or to have a Breton heir to his throne?”  With that, she saw Casavir grimace, his brows knitted together and he looked away like a sulking child. She turned to him the moment she heard the soft clatter of his armour silence. “I just…” He sighed, staring at the snow.

  
  


 

“Oh Casavir. No… I'm sorry, but no…. Ulfric might be easy on the eyes but no way would I even consider marrying him!” She replied. Rather surprised that this thought had even graced or even troubled Casavir’s mind. Then it hit her, looking at him now with his lost, doleful self, stood collecting snow on his shoulders. 

 

“... Why, Casavir? Are you jealous?” She teased with a playful smirk on her face. She expected Casavir to snap out of his depression and get all flustered again, start blubbering about how he only worries; but instead he remained silent. His downcast eyes slowly worked their way to meet hers, his fingers curled around her hand firmly. She could swear her heart stopped and her breath shook… He was! The realisation of it brought her to a grinding halt. “Oh.” Is all she could manage. 

 

“Forgive me. My lady, I… I don't know how I feel. But…” He growled, frustrated by his tangled emotions. She didn't know what to say, she felt hot all of a sudden and her breath became ragged. She gripped her frayed part of her robe as her free hand trembled, begging for stability. 

 

“I want you to be happy. That's all I want for you, I care greatly for your happiness.” He confessed. “I just…”

 

“I am happy.” She stepped forwards and turned to face him, giving him her undivided attention. “YOU, make me happy.”

 

He smiled timidly as his kissable cheeks turned a rose blush. “And…” He paused as a small crystal blue orb slowly floated past the gap between them. They both stared at it confused. 

  
  


“What's that?” Sharis asked, stepping further into Casavir as they stared at the blue orb gaily bobbing in the air. 

 

“I'm not sure.” Casavir replied. 

 

“Is it in your traveler's guide?”

 

“Um... I shall check.” He said quickly fumbling around in his bag as she stepped towards it and reached out to touch it. It was cold, yet it was almost like smoke. It whizzed around her, making her smile. 

 

“Aww, it's so cute!” She giggled. “Look another one!” She pointed to another as she followed them. 

  
  


“My lady. Please be careful.” Casavir said flitting through the pages as he gave chase after her. He looked up to a sight that almost took his breath away. The clouds parted and the sun shone down on her, radiating a warm golden glow from her. Her beaming smile and hearty laugh sent butterflies to his stomach as she played with the blue orbs around her, like fairies… that's it! They're snow fairies! What else could they be?! He scoured through his book til he found something. A ‘wisp’. He read through the page intently, flashing back up to watch her from time to time. 

 

WISPS:

‘These little critters appear as soft blue ghostly lights that are passive and sometimes exuberant in nature. They continue to be so, as they attract and lure travelers astray but will later…’

 

He turned the page to continue the chapter and froze. The butterflies in his stomach died and fell like stones as he stared at the frightening picture before him. A humanoid face yet, her jaw opened wide with long slithered icicles for teeth. A bald woman wearing torn and weathered rags. 

 

‘...attack in tandem with the ‘Wispmother. The wisps will attack, exploding on impact with their prey and distracting the victim, draining their preys energy as they fight alongside the Wispmother. ‘

 

“My lady! Get away from them!” Casavir called. His attention was immediately drawn to something erupting from the snow behind Sharis. A woman, skin as blue as a glacea and wearing nothing by scraps of white smoky rags. 

 

“SHARIS!” He dropped the book and ran at top speed towards her. Unsheathing the swords from his back. 

  
  


Sharis frowned curiously at Casavir when she heard him tell her to get away. The blue orb now resting in her hand grew so cold, it burnt. She yelped as she sharply pulled her hand away. A scratchy cry came from behind her, making a cold shiver of dread run down her back. She turned around quick to be faced with a woman. Her skin the colour of blue ice. Her mouth opened inhumanly wide to reveal long crystal, needle like teeth. Her long talon like hand came swinging towards her. 

 

“FEIM!” Sharis barked quickly. The creatures strike flew straight through her as the cute little orbs one by one exploded around her. She cast a fireball and jumped back, rolling down the snowy hill now in her corporeal form. She looked up in time to see Casavir by her side and swinging his blade at the creature, splitting it in two from its middle. 

 

“Come, my lady.” He grabbed her hand and ran her to a safe distance. She turned around to see the creature he'd slit in half began to produce a form of Mitosis, regenerate itself, now there was two of them. 

  
  


“Are you alright?” He turned to face her, gripping her shoulder when they finally reached a safe distance.

 

“Cas!” She pointed at the two ice women. “What is that thing?” She asked, now staring the two creatures. 

 

“It's a wispmother.” Casavir replied. Sharis quickly warded them from the shower of ice that the blue women cast before she threw a ball of fire at them. “I thought they were just ghost stories?!” 

 

“Apparently not.” Casavir replied. They both quizzingly stared as they noticed the two wispmothers rear away from the flames. 

 

Sharis pulled her ebony sword from her back and handed it to Casavir. He accepted it and reached back for his unlit torch and held it up for Sharis. “If you would be so kind, my lady?” 

 

She smirked and clicked her fingers to spark a flame upon the torch. “OK. I'll take the one on the left.”

 

“I shall take the right.” Casavir responded. “Watch out for the Orbs, they drain your strength.”

  
  


Sharis nodded confidently as she ran forward, with her Paladin by her side. “Yol, Toor, Shul!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The pale was cruel. He’d never seen so much snow! He was glad Sharis had decided to keep the bear pelt now, he would never again attempt to argue with her about what they will need for the trip. They hadn’t made it to Winterhold, after the wispmother, the pack of wolves attacking and now this blasted heavy snowfall, it was best to use the remaining daylight they had to set up camp until morning.

 

They manage to craft a small fire to warm up some food and themselves before vacating to the safety of their tent. 

Sharis was asleep while Casavir took the first watch. He laid down on his side of the tent listening to the wind blow gently outside. Sharis said the animals like ice bears and snow sabres didn't hunt during storms so they were safe. But Casavir regrettably was quite skeptical on that matter.

He looked over at her, laid snug under her fur cloak and pelts, turned away from him, her armour cast aside between them. She looked so beautiful. He would not deny he his feelings of jealousy which bobbed like oil upon the sea of his perception. Thinking of another man holding her, laughing with her, kissing her? It made him feel physically sick to his core. But how could he tell her? That he hated how other men admired her beauty… How he dreaded the inevitable and the anticipation of another suitor to present himself to her. 

  
  


He was powerless in such matters. He had vowed to never feel these emotions again, he feared his heart could not take it. That it would be the end of him. But all he wanted for her, was to be happy. He wanted nothing more than to see those big beautiful eyes shine with untainted joy. He would sell his soul to the demon, Molag Bal, just to make that happen. 

He closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. If they were to continue traveling first light, he needed to rest. His eyes snapped open when he heard soft grumbles and whimpering coming from her. She was shivering under the furs and what began as soft mewling sounds turned into sobbing. 

  
  


“My lady?” He whispered. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t reply but the whimpering continued. Worried for her, Casavir threw off the furs and shuffled towards her, careful not to land on the disarrayed bits of armour between them. 

 

“My lady?” He tried again, placing a hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t reply, he gingerly lifted the furs and slid in beside her. She was warm, delicate and soft. His body molded to hers like the last piece of a puzzle. Within seconds she began to lean back into him, his arm laid over the furs while he rested upon his forearm.   
  


“.... Casavir…?” She grumbled dreamily. She turned to look behind at him and reach a hand to rake through his thick black hair.    
  


“Are you alright?” He whispered softly, wrapping his arm around her, a soft shiver of pleasure tickled him from her touch. 

 

“I am now.” She cooed softly, pulling his head down to meet hers. He didn’t dare breathe when her warm, feather like breath, caressed his lips. He shut his eyes and stopped resisting her when her lips softly kissed his cheek, daringly touching the corner of his lips. He felt rather grieved when she did not meet where he had desired. The temptation of having her lips against his was too much to bear. He turned his face to meet her lips, as she kissed his again. 

Butterflies flurried like the blizzard outside their refuge. His heart raced as every fibre, every nerve, sparked alive with wild energy. Her lips were soft, sweet like the fruit tea she had been drinking. The soft tang of her scent was more dominant on her lips and drove him insane as he slipped his hand under the furs and caress her cheek. 

Their lips parted for a fraction of a second, as she began to roll onto her back. He instinctively and slowly leaned in over her, careful not to ruin the moment by crushing her under his weight. 

Their kiss became more urgent as the desire to finally be with her enslaved him, and sedated all thought of reasoning. He wanted her... he loved her. 

  
  


“Cas.” She breathed against his lips as he climb over to rest between her legs. Her hands grabbing handfuls of his hair as his body pressed his excitement against the heat between her thighs. 

 

Her hands left his hair and began to rip away at the leather vest and undershirt he was wearing. He tossed it aside and ran his hands under her shirt. Her soft silken skin made the man in him grow inpatient. He lifted the unbidden clothing up and over her head to feel her warm skin against his. 

 

“Cas.” She panted as his touch sent shivers of pleasure through her. Her hands ran all over his back. Within minutes, the burdening clothes were off and now he laid between her legs.

 

“I love you, Sharis.” He whispered. She smiled and kissed him softly. His manhood was aching to join with her as it waited restlessly at her entrance. “I love you, so much.”

  
  


“Cas… Cas?!... Eh! Wake up sleepy head!”  

  
  


Casavir woke up, wide eyed and startled. It was morning. The tent curtain was open to reveal pinky skies fading to blue. A fire was burning lively outside the tent and Sharis was sat beside him in the tent. With her legs crossed, holding a mug of something steaming. Her face etched with deep interest.

 

“Morning. Glad you slept well.” She said with a smile as Casavir looked around puzzled. It had been a dream… his chest tightened upon his conclusion. Not just because of realising it never happened, but because of how easy it had been for him to forget his vow and succumb to his desire. 

 

“What were you dreaming about? Whatever it was, it had you grunting and groaning like a cave bear.” She giggled, frowning curiously as she held out the mug. He awkwardly sat himself up, careful not to move his cloak off his lap as his morning glory was attempting to make itself known. 

 

He didn't reply. What in oblivion could he say?! He couldn't lie, and be he damned if he was going to say he was dreaming of making love to her! 

 

“I would prefer if we didn't talk about it.” He replied hesitantly. This only made her stare at him longer, he could feel himself squirming where he sat under the infernal pressure of her gaze. 

  
  


“Is it the nightmares again?” She asked. He stared at her, rather taken back by her query. She had never mentioned anything til now, so for some reason he thought she hadn't noticed.  

 

“You stopped having them for a while. Are they coming back?” She asked, attempting to ease him as she saw the discomfort hidden behind his stoic shell. He shook his head. 

 

“No,  my lady. I just would prefer not to talk about it. Though you are most kind to show such concern, thank you.”

 

_ Of course I'm going to show concern you big dope! _ She bit her lip to stop her thoughts becoming vocal. She nodded and planted the tanker in hands before scrambling out of the tent to the fire. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“There it is! Winterhold. You see that big building there?”

 

“Are you referring to the one that's sat secluded upon a crumbling rock?” 

 

“Yep. That's where we are heading. There used to be more of the city, along time ago, but something happened and half the town fell into the sea.”

 

“Something happened?” Casavir repeated questionably. She nodded. 

 

“No one knows exactly what happened. Some say it was one of the mages experiments that went horribly wrong, and others say it was the sea. But no one actually knows.”

  
  


“I see… So, may I ask, why is the college left unharmed? Aside from the bridge of course.”

 

“I dunno. I don't think anyone really knows. Too much controversy.” She shrugged. 

 

 

The afternoon sun was beginning to be veil behind thick clouds that brought more snow. It was a relief in all honesty. The white blanket of snow was blinding in the daylight. They headed straight for the bridge, not even stopping at the inn or shop. 

Ascending up the slope towards the eroding bridge was a woman. A mage standing guard. She jumped to her feet immediately upon seeing the two. 

 

“Cross the bridge at your own peril. The way is dangerous, and the gates will not open. You shall not gain entry!” She asserted herself, standing in their way.

 

“Why not?” Sharis quirked an amused brow as she pull her hood and scarf from her face. The woman gasped as Sharis revealed herself. 

 

“Sharis?!” Said the mage. The woman’s elven brows almost hit the brim of her hairline. 

 

“Hey, Faralda.”  Sharis smiled nervously. “Been a while eh?” 

 

“It's been almost two years! We thought you weren't going to come back!” Faralda folder her arms across her chest. Sharis shrugged with the same uncomfortable smile. “Well, I'm back. I need to talk to someone about an Elder scroll.” 

  
  


“An Elder scroll? What do you want a...? Nevermind. You'll want to talk to Urag. I think. If anyone will know about such things, it'll be that grumpy old goat.” She nasally giggle. Her eyes then shifted to Casavir as he stood close behind Sharis. He noticed her gaze immediately and bowed his head with a polite smile. 

 

“And who is this stranger. A new student?” Faralda asked, seeming rather intrigued by the tall handsome knight.

 

“No. Well… I suppose he could if he was interested. This is Casavir, Paladin of the Divines, my dear friend and companion.” Sharis announced proudly. Though she noticed Casavir’s prominent brows twitch as he hide a groan behind a polite smile. 

 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, lady Faralda.” Casavir's deep thick voice permeated the cold air. Sharis could swear she just saw her teacher blush. 

 

 

“A Paladin?...! Well. I must say, you sure do find some rare and interesting friends, Sharis.” Faralda smirked, clearly flustered by the intoxicating sound of the handsome stranger's voice.    
  


She felt her blood boil as her green eyed monster growled. Faralda’s bright bronze eyes fluttered as she looked up at Casavir. 

 

“Yes. So. Can we cross?” Sharis asked loudly to take Faralda's attention off Casavir. 

 

“Of course. Let me escort you.” Faralda jerked her head towards Sharis. 

 

“We’ll be fine.” Sharis politely replied, though her tone held a sharp edge. She grabbed Casavir's arm and pulled him towards the bridge. Once they were out of earshot of the high elf, she glanced up from behind her hood to see Casavir looking down at her. 

  
  


 

“Are you alright, my lady?” He asked softly. 

 

“Fine.” She replied, staring ahead at the broken bridge. “Watch your step.” 

 

Carefully, they crossed the bridge and walked towards the gate. Something was wrong, it was plain to see. Did this place bring back bad memories? So much had happened. So much had changed! When she released his arm to walk ahead, he reached out and grabbed her hand. She turned to look over her shoulder at him; both mutually surprised by his boldness. This form of touch was normally initiated by Sharis. Not Casavir. 

 

“My lady. I understand this is difficult for you. So much has happened since you were here last. But please. Know that I am here. Not just as your ally,  but as a... a friend.” He said so sweetly. Though the last word was hard for him to say. 

 

Her frustration melted away with his sweet words. But her jealousy was still simmering. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his fault he had that effect on people. Being his companion she needed to accept this. 

 

“Thank you, Casavir. You always know what to say…” She left it at that. Yes, she was overwhelmed with the familiar surroundings that had turned foreign around her. True, so much had happened since she was here last. Her last memories of this place were her skipping towards town on her way to see her family. Now… now she was back. 

She gripped her Paladin’s hand and together they walked through the Magnus gates to the mages courtyard. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Urag!” Sharis voice cracked through the silence of the Mage's library. Upon hearing the sound a face appeared from behind the counter. An old orc with hair that looked like he got on the wrong end of a lightning bolt, and a face like thunder. 

 

“Sharis… You got a death wish?” The grumpy old Orc grumbled as Sharis came bounding over. 

 

“No thanks, I kinda like the land of the living.” She smiled. Surprisingly, the grumpy old Orc cracked an amused smile before sitting up and leaning across the counter. 

 

“I ain’t seen you in a while. Where’ve you been? Gallivanting around Skyrim with your boyfriend? Darren won’t be happy.” Urag gestured up at Casavir. The comment strangely filled Casavir with pride. Being mistaken as her inamorato was strangely satisfying, and, wait…. What? Darren?

 

“Darren ain’t my boyfriend anymore Urag. And this fine gentleman here, is Casavir.” She giggled and shyly glanced up at the Paladin. He was looking at her and the Orc librarian confused. He wasn’t sure what to make of this conversation. Darren? Boyfriend?!

  
  


“Anyway! I’m here for an Elder scroll. Got any information on where I could find one? Or do you have one stashed away in those oversized robes of yours?” She winked, eager to change the subject quick. The orc rolled his eyes at her. “What do you want an Elder scroll for?” 

 

“Bedtime reading.”

  
  


“PHA! Bedtime reading.” He scoffed. “And what do you REALLY plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand girl?” He sneered giving her a look once over with his eyes. 

 

“Of course I know what I’m doing. Don’t you disrespect me old man. Do you have one or not?”

 

“Ha! You think that even if I did have one here, I would let you see it? it would be kept under the highest security.”

 

 

“Like the collection of erotic literature you keep under this counter?” Sharis pulled a wicked smirk and she rapped her knuckles against the wooden counter. Urag immediately sat up from the counter and frowned with a deep crimson rising in his green tone.

 

“C’mon, Urag. I need to find an Elder scroll, and I was told by a certain someone, that you could help me.” Sharis winked. Casavir just stood and watched as she surprised him yet again by making an Orc blush. Not something that is seen very often. 

 

“Well, I don't know who told you that, but I'll do what I can. I'll bring everything we have on them, it's not much. So don't get your hopes up. It's mostly lies, leavened with rumor and conjecture.” He growled as he turned to unlock a bookshelf. Rattling a large bundle of keys in his hands.

 

“Here you go. Try not to spill anything on them.” Urag laid two large and very weathered books on the table, pitted in dust. Sharis picked one up while Casavir grabbed the other.   

 

“Can we take them to the dorms? Bring them back in the morning?” She asked, her bright hazel eyes pleaded. 

  
  


“Not a chance!” Urag growled, snatching the book away the moment she made such a suggestion. She pouted her full rosy lips and fluttered her thick lashes, her vibrant hazel gems gazed up at the old Orc. 

 

“Oh, Please... If you don't, then I'll have stay here. Bugging you, and then I’ll get tired… my mouth will blab and might slip out about the secret stash of poems you have about Nir-”

  
  


"FINE!” Urag abruptly pushed the book back into Sharis’s hands. She beamed happily at her victory. “Don't you dare damage them. or I'll-”

 

“Have me torn apart by angry atronachs. Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Urag.” With that she spun on her heel and walked confidently back towards the stairs as Urag began grumbling something she couldn't hear (nor could she bring herself to care) what he was saying. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ok. Well, this is my room.” She announced, both her and Casavir stood at the archway looking into her small, yet cosy, sleeping quarters. 

 

“Wow, everything is exactly how I left it. Apart from someone has been rooting through my ingredient stash!” She frowned, stepping into the room and planted the books on the bed.

 

Casavir followed after and stood at the foot of her bed, looking around at her small dorm room. His eyes averted to the floor. 

 

 

“What's wrong?” She asked, looking up from her basket of alchemy ingredients.

 

“My lady. Why did you not correct the librarian? When he referred to me as your… your boyfriend.” Casavir looked up quickly before again turning his attention to the floor.

 

Before she could even answer him, two figures appeared behind the archway. One, a Nord man, the other a Dunmer woman. Both fashioning mage robes and a huge smile on their faces. 

  
  


“Sharis!” The Dunmer cried. Her face brimming with happiness. Casavir’s question would have to wait til they were alone. 

 

“Brelyna.” She smiled, scooting across the room towards her. She wasted no time as she a reached up to hug her friend while the Nord just eyed Casavir questionably. 

 

“We thought you wouldn’t come back.” He said with his arms folded across his chest. 

 

“Hey Onmund.” She smirked and rolled her eyes as she came in to give him a hug too. “I’m not staying long. Just passing through, really.” She noticed her two friends attention being drawn to her tall, handsome companion. Brelyna had a glimmer of interest in her eyes which was stirring the green eyed monster inside Sharis again. 

  
  


“Guys. I’d like you to meet Casavir.” She stepped back and looped arms with him. “He’s a Paladin. Casavir, this is Brelyna and Onmund. They’re my friends from when I studied here.”

 

“Hi.” Onmund smiled. 

 

“Nice to meet you.” Brelyna reached out her hand. Sharis felt the hair’s on her back stand on end and her teeth grind as Casavir took Brelyna's hand and bowed. “The pleasure is all mine, lady Brelyna.” He smiled pleasantly. Brelyna blushed and fluttered her lashes 

 

 

“Oh, it's so good to see you again, Sharis! We should go to the Frozen Hearth! Let’s celebrate!” Onmund suggested. 

 

“J’zargo can come too!” Brelyna nodded as she coyly glanced at Casavir.    
  


“I suppose so. What do you say, Cassie?” Sharis turned to him. He fashioned a warm smile and nodded. 

 

“I do believe you deserve to enjoy yourself.” He replied.

 

“Great! So tonight then? First, me and Cassie have got some research to do.” She smiled. They left it at that. Brelyna went back to her studying, attempting to convince Onmund to be her assistant on a new spell she was practicing. Before she could even ask Sharis, she was quick to refuse and letting her ask Casavir was out of the question. She’d learnt the hard way not to trifle with spells that weren't perfected. 

  
  


Sharis and Casavir scoured page after page of the books Urag had given them. She was sat on the bed after pulling the table up to the bed as she normally did. Casavir sat opposite her on the chair. She peered up from the pages at the Paladin who was furrowing his brows at what he was reading. His face of concentration was so adorable. 

 

“My lady?” He suddenly looked up. She quickly sat up and pretended she hadn’t just been staring at him. 

 

“Uh, Yeah?” 

 

“This… ‘Ruminations’ book… it’s very incomprehensible… Perhaps you can understand it better?” He handed her the open book. “Here.” He pointed to a paragraph. It took her a fair few time to try and work out what the book was trying to explain, whoever wrote it was obviously a little loose in the head; but it was clear to see they knew what they were talking about. 

 

“I have no idea.” She scoffed, baffled by it herself. 

 

“Is there a possibility that Urag would have any knowledge of solving this riddling text?” Casavir asked. She shrugged. It was most likely he did. After all, he loved hoarding old books, wouldn’t make sense if he didn’t read them also. 

 

 

“Sharis?” Onmund’s voice called from behind the curtain divider. “You ready to go to the Frozen hearth?” 

  
  


Sharis turned back to Casavir before pushing a hawk feather between the pages as to not lose her spot. “We will have to ask him in the morning. Right now, I’m hungry, and I need to catch up with my friends.” 

 

“Of course. I think you deserve some time to relax. Please, enjoy yourself, my lady.” He bowed his head and turned back to his seat. She paused and stared at him a while. 

 

“You’re not coming?” She asked, slightly tilting her head. He looked up at her with a rather lost expression.    
  


“I, I thought the invite only extended to you.”    
  


“Oh Cas, Come on. Get that metal off and lets go get some food. You’re not staying in here.” She laughed. Grabbing their cloaks and opening the curtain to wait outside. 

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“J’zargo!” Sharis squealed and jumped up at her furry rival. She loved annoying him. He was so competitive, it was ridiculous. 

 

“Still as spirited as ever. This one is glad to see you too.” He chirruped. “Now you have returned, I finally have some competition.” 

 

“Don’t let Darren hear you say that.” Brelyna giggled.

 

“Pah! Like I would care what that noble snob thinks.” J’zargo hissed. His attention now turned to Casavir who was walking back to their table with Onmund and their drinks. Sharis scooted along the bench to be guaranteed a space beside her Paladin. He smiled and came to sit beside her. 

  
  


“So. You’re a Paladin. What is that exactly?” Brelyna asked, leaning over the table to listen eagerly to Casavir as he began to explain. 

 

“A Paladin is a holy warrior. We fight to keep the battle of light and dark in this world at balance. We are skilled in a wide range of combat, and are skilled in healing.”

 

“Magic too?” Brelyna asked, putting on a sultry tone. 

 

“Well. Yes. Though most Paladin’s solely focus on physical forms of combat. Our healing abilities does strongly rely of the art of Restoration. There are also some, but rare, occasions for Paladins to prefer Magic as their form of combat.” Casavir replied. Sharis eyed Brelyna from behind her tilting tanker as she took a sip. She was flirting with him, and Sharis didn’t like it. Luckily Casavir was completely oblivious to Brelyna's sweet talk and her fluttering lashes. 

 

“So, I hear Paladin’s have to take vows. Is one of them a vow of chastity?” She asked coyly, interlocking her fingers together as she rested her chin on them. Sharis didn’t like this one bit! She loved Brelyna, but Casavir was not on offer for her. He was Sharis’ Paladin. She wanted to make that very clear and felt a very strong urge to nestle up to Casavir to make it known he was her’s and no one else's. Plus, the question was enough to make Brelyna's admirer, Onmund, begin to choke on his ale. 

 

 

“Forgive me, but I feel that question would be most improper for me to answer. Though, I will say, there are some Paladin’s that do choose to keep themselves as pure as possible, not only spiritually but also of body.” Casavir simply replied as he looked down at his tanker. Sharis felt rather proud, yet at the same time, frustrated. He never answered that question verbally. Though his awkwardness and his constant rebuff of any question revolving around such things made her sure he had taken that vow. Was there a vow for that? 

 

She wanted to ask him, but before she open her mouth, J’zargo butted in.

 

“So why is a Paladin travelling with a little Breton?” She growled and tried to kick out at J’zargo from under the table. Her short legs could not reach and J’zargo simply laughed. Before anymore could be said. She heard someone call her name from the other side of the room. 

 

“Darren.” Sharis smiled politely as the man came walking over. Blonde, average height for a Breton. His deep grey eyes held way too much pride for her liking. He walked so confidently across the room, keeping a slow and graceful pace as to be sure he had an audience towards her. 

 

 

“Uggghhh. Who invited him? Did someone’s lips flap that Sharis was here?!” 

 

“Urag, it’s gotta be Urag.” Sharis muttered to the group before swinging her feet round and climbing off the bench to meet Darren half way on his ‘red carpet’.

 

“Ah, sweet rose.” He said loud enough for all in the tavern to hear. She held a pleasant tight lipped smile, she hated him calling her that.

 

“You look lovely as ever, when Urag told me that you….You!” Darren’s attention snapped straight to Casavir when he noticed him sat down with the group. Casavir stared blankly at him, confused at why this ‘Darren’ was so suddenly hostile towards him. They hadn't even been introduced!

  
  


“I’m... sorry?” Casavir questioned, keeping relaxed incase this was all a misunderstanding. 

 

“You! You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face round here. What? Embarrassing me in front of the inhabitants of Solitude wasn’t enough for you?! Now you wish to harass me in my place of study?!” Darren spat.  _ What?  _ Sharis looked over her shoulder at Casavir who looked just as confused as she did. 

 

“I’m afraid you may have me confused with someone else, sir.” Casavir rose from his seat as he reached over for Sharis, gently moving her away from Darren. He did not know why this ‘Darren’ had taken such a sudden dislike to him, but he did not want Sharis being stuck in the middle if this turned ugly. 

 

 

“You know Casavir?” Sharis asked curiously. Somewhat defiant, yet, obedient as Casavir pulled her back to her seat. 

 

“Is something wrong?” Haran asked. Trying to defuse the sudden tension in her inn. Her husband, Dagur,  simply leant on the bar, seeming rather relieved that something fun was happening. 

 

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong!” Darren spouted. “This bully threw me in a filthy cell.” 

 

 

“....What... him?!” Onmund asked. The sudden realization of what was happening finally hit the three mages sat at the table like a wave. It first hit J’zargo, who burst into a fit of laughter, followed by Brelyna, then Onmund. Onmund tried so hard to hide his amusement at the matter, but he pulled his hood over his head to hide away until he could contain it. 

 

“It’s not funny!” Darren’s yell almost turned to a shrilling squeak. 

 

“Casavir, did you?” Sharis jumped to his side. Casavir’s brows furrowed as he scoured his recollection for any kind of events that would relate him to this matter.

 

“Of course he did! This brute manhandled me into a grubby cell and wouldn’t listen to any reason. How was I supposed to know Magic was not permitted in the city walls?!” Casavir’s face fell as the memories came flooding back. 

  
  


“Ah, yes. I remember you now. You were that foolish mage who almost destroyed the market because you were showing off to your friends.” 

 

“How dare you! I wasn’t showing off, I was merely showing my friends what I have learnt during my time at the college.” Darren sniped. 

 

“And in doing so, you not only damaged the structure of the city, but you're reckless and inattentive mishandling of your skills put many in danger.” Casavir replied flatly.

 

“I had everything under control.” 

 

“Well, sir. It certainly didn’t look that way.” Casavir crossed his arms against his chest. 

 

“Oh, what do you know about magic? You’re nothing but a big metal bully, who loves to push people around, and now, you’ve hunted me down to here. Well, you won’t get the better of me, Oh no. I’m ready for you this time.” With that, Sharis jumped into the space between Darren and Casavir, holding a intimidating glare in her eyes that halted Darren’s obscene threats. 

 

“Don’t you dare talk to my boyfriend like that!” She barked. 

 

 

The tension in the room suddenly felt like electric as Brelyna and Onmund’s jaw almost hit the floor. She didn’t dare look at Casavir for his reaction, but she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her skull.

 

“Boyfriend?” Darren exclaimed loudly.    
  


“Oh boy.” Onmund mumbled.

 

“Oh, this is going to be good.” Brelyna grinned, her eyes playing out what possibilities await. 

 

"This one only wishes Dagur had some popped corn for this occasion. ” J’zargo asked, clearly eager to see the fight that was going to take place. 

  
  


“My lady.. I” Casavir began to speak. Panic shot through her and she cut him off. 

 

“No, my love! I won’t have him talking to you like that!” She snapped, quickly glancing up at him as to warning him to keep quiet. His face turned a deep shade of red and his crystal blue eyes gaped at her. She could feel the heat rising in her own face as she realised what she had just said, quickly she turned back to Darren. 

  
  


“He’s your…. You two are?” 

 

“Yes! And if you so much as lay a finger on my man. I’ll blast your ass over the cliff and into the sea of ghosts. Understand?!” Sharis growled. Flames flickered from her lips as she spoke. Her hands tingled with flickering orange light as she took a step towards her ex. 

 

He himself stepped back away from her, his eyes wide with panic. Gods, what did she ever see in this guy. He was a damn wimp! Before she could begin to back him up to the other side of the inn, a strong hand clasped her shoulder. She turned to lock eyes with who ever dared stop her, only to find it was Casavir who had been so daring. 

 

 

“My lady. Allow me to mend the wrong I have done to this gentleman.” He took a step beside her and stood to face Darren whose expression was flitting from worry and disgust. 

 

“You are right, sir. I handled the situation wrong. I only hope you can accept my apology. Perhaps I could buy you a drink?” Casavir bowed his head. Darren’s panicked face turned sour as he frowned at Casavir and then at Sharis. 

 

“I don’t want a drink.” He tutted. “But I suppose I can find it in me to forgive you.” 

 

“Of course, sir.” Casavir replied. “Thank you.”  Sharis stared at him incredulously, why was he being so calm and cool-headed.  _ Suppose he’s used to dealing with erratic behavior _ . She thought. 

 

 

“Sweet Sharis. When you grow tired of this… tyrant.” Darren began. “Know that I shall be waiting for you.” He conjured a flickering crystal light in his hand, flecks of ice formed and connected together into what appeared to be a rose. An Ice rose.

 

“It was enchanting to see you again, my dear. I hope you come to your senses soon. I hope you have a pleasant night, Sweet rose.” Darren flashed a charming pretentious grin before handing her the rose and turning to leave. 

 

“So, you two are an item?” Brelyna asked, her sultry tone and flirtatious lashes disappeared and now she just looked disappointed. Onmund, however, looked relieved. It was no secret that he held a torch for the Dunmer, though Brelyna herself was blind to this. 

 

“Yes.” Sharis immediately replied. The frozen rose melted within seconds in her hands as she engulfed it in flames. She was filled with dread with anticipation. Counting down to the moment where Casavir would call her out. She grabbed her tanker off the table and down what was left. 

 

 

“Ok. My round. Cas, can you help me bring them over?” She did not wait for an answer as she pulled him to the bar. 

 

“I’m sorry. Casavir, before you say anything, I know how awkward this is.” 

 

“I agree.” He nodded, his head staring dead ahead as they waiting for their refills, their backs turned to their table from across the room. 

 

“So. All I need you to do is…”

 

“No. Please forgive me, my lady. But a Paladin cannot lie.” 

 

“I know, I know. Casavir, please listen. All I need you to do is keep quiet. Just smile and let me do the talking.” 

 

“... My lady. This isn't fair.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“... Never mind. Let's just return to the table.” He sighed, collecting two tankers in both hands and heading back to the three mages. She watched him walk back to the table and hand the drinks around. She felt awful, she knew Casavir could never lie. Not only because of his Paladin vows, but it just didn’t seem in his nature to do so. Still… what did he mean by ‘it isn’t fair’? 

 

 

_ OOHH… fuck it! _  She growled turning back to the bar and downed her fresh tanker. The rich bitter taste gave her a shiver and the bubbles tickled her.

 

“You want another?” Dagur asked. Raising a curious brow at her drinking habit. 

 

“You got anything stronger?” She asked. 

  
  
  
  
  



	24. The Sea of Ghosts

“Dancin in tha mooon ligh! Evary bodiz feelin worm n brigh!” Sharis sang, chorused by her friends as they left the inn and headed back to the College.

“Itz suchh a fine an natur-le…naturr…” She paused, her lips fumbling with the word.

“….Natural?” Casavir asked.

“YYYAAAASSSS!” She howled with a hearty laugh, clutching to her knight.

“…. So, that was the Hammerfell Haka?” Casavir asked, his calm tone was etched with underlying amusement.

“Yesh! Yu shud av cum up un’all!” Sharis chortled. Leaning against Casavir as he kept her standing. Five tankers, one bottle of spiced wine and three shots of Hammerfell whiskey and she was wasted.

 

“Eyy! Lets go skeein” She suggested. Casavir shook his head as her friends followed behind. J’zargo was walking ahead to cross the bridge first. He turned when he reached the other side and Casavir handed Sharis over to the agile mage and he sat her safely on the other side.

“No way! Not afta wha appened las time!” Onmund snapped with a sulking pout.

“Eyy, ain’t my faul you wurnt fast enuf.” Sharis laughed.

“I got a scarr on ma ass from tha dam troll.” Onmund sulked as Brelyna laughed, holding each other like a happy couple.

 

Sharis pouted when Casavir crossed the broken patch of bridge and reached down to help her to her feet. “No, dohn’ moov me! am appi ere.”

“I’m afraid I can’t leave you here.” He sighed. She grinned widely and outstretched her arms to him, curling her fingers in and out.

“Carri mi the-n. Carri your laydee!” She slurred, followed by a giggle.

“You wish for J’zargo to grab her legs?” J’zargo offered after helping Brelyna and Onmund both over.

“No, I should be fine now, thank you. Though I’m curious as to why you are not intoxicated like the rest of the group.” Casavir asked J’zargo.

“Pah! The Nords’ booze is nothing compared to the fine nectar Kahjiit produce in Elsweyr.” J’zargo laughed.

“Ah, I see.” Casavir nodded. He reached down to Sharis who was beginning to drift to sleep on the snowy bridge. Upon feeling Casavir’s arms bringing her to a stand, she awoke and cooed, clunging to his strong neck.

“Tayk mee tu bed. Pweez?” She slurred. Casavir suddenly felt heat rush to his face as he saw J’zargo look at the two questionably.

 

“J’zargo, shall get the door.” He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue at the roof of his mouth. “Sharis is not much competition like this.”

Casavir didn’t question that last comment. He wasn’t sure whether J’zargo was insinuating him practicing destruction combat with her, or whether the Kahjiit was insinuating Casavir would be taking advantage of her in such a weak state. Nevertheless, Casavir didn’t let it bother him and followed the Kahjiit back to the sleeping quarters.

“Shhhh!” Sharis giggled, pressing her index finger against her lips after she had clumsily bashed herself into the corner table making it cry out. Casavir nodded and repeated her hushing sound as he helped her to her bed. He sat her down and knelt down before her to unfasten her boots.

“Gud boi.” She mumbled dotingly, ruffling his thick groomed hair. He tutted and reached up to take off her cloak and went to put it on the hanger. As soon as he had removed his padded under coat, he heard a sliding thud behind him. His heart stopped as he spun around, expecting to find Sharis flaked out on the floor, but instead she was leaning against a chest of draws. Clutching a wine bottle in her hand.

“Av yu eva ad booze? Oh wai… yeh… Iverz-ted.” She snorted, hiding her face behind the bottle as she swirled around the dark liquid inside. She bit her bottom lip and amused herself as she pulled the cork out with a loud pop. Casavir remained silent, his stoic expression on his face deepened with a red blush upon remembering his intoxication.

“My lady, I think you’ve had enough for one night.” He sighed. She simply giggled. Raising the rim of the bottle to her lips. Casavir sighed again and walked over to her, taking the bottle from her hand and proceeded to walk away with it.

“Oiy!… rood! I’m no’ finisht.” She whined.

“I must disagree, my lady.” He said turning to her, only to be greeted by a jolting push as she came crashing into him.

 

His strong chest was warm, his fresh, clean scent filled her. Her body moaned, giving sound to her appreciating his close touch. He couldn’t help but tense up when she collided into him. He quickly grabbed her and held her steady, so she would not collapse to the ground. The soft moans she made as her fingers gently dug into his back. He was grateful for the quick distraction as she began to attempt snatching the bottle from behind him.

“My lady, You must rest.” He pleaded, holding the bottle out of reach while he struggled to keep himself and her upright.

She kept up the fight. At first it was to get the wine, but now… now it was to stay close to him.  All that he was, she loved it.  His hard shell and padding were gone, leaving him vulnerable to her. Her arms wrapped around him, and her hand that clutched to his back, could feel his taut muscles and his firm flat stomach. It was so inviting she couldn’t help but moan in approval as she pulled herself closer against him. He raised the bottle above him, he knew she couldn’t reach.

 _What am I doing?_ He thought.

_You’re playing catch with her._

_Oh for heavens sake!_

This was getting ridiculous. Yet for some reason, Casavir enjoyed her immediacy. Having her right here, right against him. That curvaceous figure, that haunted his mind with sweet temptation, was now pressed against his body. With only a few layers of fabric between them.

No, he shouldn’t be thinking of her like that. Not right now. Not only was she drunk; but it was most improper. Fantasizing about kissing her, holding her, ripping the clothes away and slipping under the furs with her.

Suddenly, she took him completely by surprise when she jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck as an attempt to climb up for the wine.

“Gimme.” She laughed, wrapping her legs around his waist to steady herself as she reached for the bottle.

 _Oh… Gods!_ He gulped as her legs tightened around his waist.

“My lady, enough.. Please!” In panic he dropped the bottle spilling it on the floor and grabbing her to pull her off. His inappropriate thoughts broke free from their cage as he felt her around him. Her warmth between her legs pressed against his. He could feel his sex stiffen, as his mind ran wild with thoughts of claiming her in such a way. In two big strides he was over at the bed pulling her arms from around his neck.

“Enou-!” He began. She fell back onto the bed but not before instinctively grabbing at Casavir’s shirt and pulling him down with her.

A loud tearing sound filled the room as he felt himself falling. He landed on top of her with a grunt as their bodies collided.

_Sweet Dibella, help me…_

They laid on the bed silent, her rose blushed cheeks either from the wine or from exerting herself in their little struggle was bright and rosy. His deep pants for breath tickled her cheeks and his striking blue eyes stared helplessly down, inches away from her. She was beautiful. Drunk or not.

Her thick brown hair sprawled wildly around her head, and those eyes! Though dilated and bloodshot were strikingly beautiful. Filled with a deep lust as their gaze seared into his very being.

He could not deny that look. He may have curbed himself towards celibacy, but that did not make him incognizant to the language of carnal desires. Especially when he could not deny his deep and irrevocable need for this woman. Her full tempting lips parted ever so slightly allowing laboured breaths to escape them. Her eyes scoured him, her body moulding to his, with no gap between them to show him mercy from his temptation.

Once again his body would not listen to reasoning, he commanded himself to get off her, but he was glued in place. Her legs once wrapped around him were now resting either side of his hips. His manhood stirred inside his trousers, grazing against her womanhood. His face turned a deep bright red as he realised just how powerless he was right now. How much he wanted her. How much he craved for her.

 

_She’s right there, Casavir._

_She wants you too._

_Make her yours._  The voices of reasoning turned against his better judgment.

Her fingers clutching onto the now torn shirt ghosted his collarbone, working their sensuous touch against his exposed skin. Her gentle fingers sent sparks that brought every nerve ending in his body alive.

 

 _Oh hells._ He seized the moment and descended upon her lips. She squealed with surprise at first. His eyes scrunched shut as to not see himself giving in to temptation. But then she kissed back, the sweet tang of whisky tickled him as he bit down gently on the plum of her lower lip. That soft moan… _Oh gods!_

 _No._ He opened his eyes. Thank the Gods, he hadn’t moved, his imagination was playing tricks on him. He was still gazing into her bright hazel eyes. Begging him for something he could not give her. He would never take advantage of her. If he was ever to kiss her – It would not be like this.

“I’m so sorry.” He began. Focusing on at least shifting his weight off her.

 

“I ffeel sik.” She sluggishly announced. His body finally awoke as he shot up and pulled her to a seating position. Within moments, he had the bucket from under the bed on her lap and was pulling her hair back from her face as she supported herself against him.

“Sorwi” She finally managed to say after she was done spilling her guts into the bucket.

“There’s no need for an apology, my lady. I’m so sorry I fell on you. Are you hurt?”

 

His cheeks were ebbing of their crimson blush. She shook her head with a groan, dipping her head again into the bucket as another wave of violent vomiting washed over her. When she was done he put the bucket down on the floor and reached for a bottle of spring water from his bag.

“Here, my lady. Drink this.” He handed her the bottle and grabbed a rag to wipe her mouth. She groaned to herself, pushing the bottle to her lips as Casavir wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders. She slumped into the crook of his arm and muttered something he didn’t quite grasp. Clearly she was drifting to sleep.

 

“I do believe, it is way past your bedtime. Casavir said smoothly. She may be a drunken vomiting mess at this moment. But he adored her. The good, the bad and the drunken havering mess she was right now. He took the bottle from her before she dropped it and placed it on the bedside table, before bridally lifting her into his arms and laying her down for bed.

Her hair still harbored a soft smell of lavender entwined with the faint smell of booze and vomit on her breath. It did not faze him, nothing could make him think any less of her. She closed her eyes and smiled. Cupping his cheek with her hand.

“Yu smel gurd.” She mumbled. He breathed a timid laugh as he knelt at her bedside.

“Thank you.” He replied. “Now, my lady. please, rest.” He took her hand from his face and placed on her pillow and pulled her thick blanket over her to tuck her into bed. She was silent, still.

 

He sighed heavily. Finally, guilt filled him as the recent events bombarded his conscious. The torn collar of his shirt dangled down his half exposed chest.  His fingers brushed along where her fingers had touched him. He realised she had been tracing along the pink scarred tissue on his chest, his Paladin emblem. Seared into him when he became a warrior of the Gods. He looked over at her, nestled into her pillow.

He felt appalled in himself, he’d almost broke his vow. But he was mostly disgusted in himself for losing control, not being able to pull himself away and worse! Having his phallus pressed up against her. He quickly rearranged himself before lacing up the collar thread on his tunic. That should hold at least for the night. He would bathe in the morning and then change into his other shirt. Hopefully she wouldn’t have noticed his body’s growing excitement.

 

“Blessed divines.Please, forgive my actions tonight.” He whispered. “I understand that love is natural, a blessing, given to mortals. But…” He paused, closing his eyes as he finally confessed. “I’m scared.”

 

“Cas?” Sharis breathed sleepily. He jumped at the sudden sound of his name. For a quick moment, he thought the Gods were answering him.

“My lady, you need to sleep.” He softly chastised her, pulling her covers further up her shoulder incase she was cold.  Her hand reached for his and held it gently.

“Don’ be scaird. I gort yu.” She mumbled. Casavir smiled, rather embarrassed that she had heard him. But also flattered by his drunken attempts to comfort him.

“Of course, my lady. Thank you.” He whispered softly.

“I luv yu.” She slurred tiredly. His heart stopped and breath left him as he stared thunderstruck by the words that just left her.

 _She… loves me?_ No, no.. she was drunk.  This was just the drink talking. Obviously, she was still playing the facade of their romantic relations. Still, hearing her say it made his soul take flight and his heart swelled. Just as hearing her announce him as her lover had shocked him, yet filled him with pride. Oh he wished it wasn’t just a false statement.

“Goodnight, my fair lady.” He knelt down and kissed the dorsal side of her hand, which tasted of the spiced wine she had spilt on herself when they were at the inn. He smiled remembering her seating herself on his lap. His pathetic attempts to play along with her stories.

Now, thanks to her; he would have to keep up this false pretense.

_Wonderful… Just wonderful._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This one is glad to finally have such worthy competition.” J’zargo smiled. His tail wagged with excitement.

“Aww. You missed me beating your ass?” Sharis groaned sarcastically. They assumed their position facing one another from across the courtyard.

“Pah! We shall see, who beats whose’ ass. J’zargo has been practicing.” He sniggered.

 _Yeah, yeah…_ She thought. Her mind more focused on her desperate need to down the bottle of spring water, roosted in Casavir’s hands as he watched from a safe distance.

The two mage readied themselves and waited patiently for one another to begin. J’zargo leapt into action as he threw a crack of lightning in her direction. She was quick to react and shaped her flames into a fiery whip. With a quick swing of her hand she managed to deflect the lightning’s path. She swung it again to sweep it under J’zargo’s feet, hoping to knock him to the ground. But he was quick and agile. He jumped free and used an ice spike at the current flowing in her whip.

He was right. J’zargo had indeed been practicing. She wasn’t expecting him to be so responsive, his reflexes were on point. Before she knew it, a blast of ice collided into her and she stumbled back. The prickling cold shocked her and slowed her body. Another came and this time knocked her off her feet, rolling back and bumping into the tree behind her. The snow that perched on the branches fell on top of her.

“My lady!” Casavir breathed in panic. He was about to run to her, but Brelyna put her hand infront of him.

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.” Breylna said. “Those robes she’s wearing are specially designed for students training.”  Casavir glanced at Breylna for a moment before looking back to Sharis. The robes she were wearing were basic. They didn’t even look like they could hold out the cold, let alone protect her from crippling destruction spells. Casavir took a step back and stood by the wall. He breathed a sigh of relief when her head popped out of the mound of snow, like a chicken hatching from an egg.

“Only two more strikes. Then J’zargo wins.” The Kahjiit grinned. His lips pulled back to reveal his sharp canines.

 _Ugh, why did I agree to this,_ she thought.

_Because you made a bet last night?_

_I did?_

_Well, Casavir confirmed it._

_Ugh!_ She was too hungover for this shit! She was still trying to recover after lasts nights celebratory drinks. Being smacked around was not helping her thumping head. She had woken in the morning, with no recollection of how she got to bed.

 

Last thing she remembered was staring up at the bottom of her wine goblet. Then she woke up and she was in bed with a pounding head and a very perplexed looking Casavir, sat across the room. She looked over at her opponent as he hissed through his feline fangs.

 _Well… Might as well blow off some steam,_ She thought. _Let’s dance, bitch!_

“Ha! In your dreams, fur ball!” Sharis scoffed, pulling herself quickly out of the snow mount. Melting the snow around her and pulling into a stream, whipping it hard to hit J’zargo to the ground. He scuffled to his feet and hissed. His glare as vicious as being stuck in a staring competition with a Sabre cat.

“Two strikes left, fluffy.” She laughed. He jumped on his feet and began his attack. This went on for quite some time. Fire, ice, lightning all flew through the air. Breylna and Onmund shielded the small audience that was collecting in the archway, looking out at the two mages battling for the champions title.

J’zargo was quick and agile, and so was Sharis. But not when she was hungover. J’zargo attempted to strike her out with the same ice attack. She jumped out of its way and staggered back as an icy blast collided with her ward.

The tally now was 2/2. Next one to be knocked down loses. She dipped dived and dodged almost every attack. Ocassionally faltering but she refused to let the Kahjiit win.

J’zargo ran forward, lightning crackled in his hands. She wouldn’t be able to dodge this. J’zargo was getting desperate as he was on his last strike. His shot at finishing the battle. He now was attempting to hit her close range.

She knew what to do. Where once she would have panicked, she remembered her training with Casavir. J’zargo may have been practicing, studying the mastery of spells, but Sharis had been in the real world. Fighting real battles.

 

As J’zargo’s crackling purple fist came plummeting towards her. She slid to her right. Her left hand came to parry his attack and struck his wrist, pushing away from her. Meanwhile her right hand conjured the snow to melt and collect into a ball of water in her hand. Sharis’s strike to the wrist banished the lightning in his hand as she clasped his wrist tightly. She stepped inwards towards him and with the water wielding hand she punched the palm of her hand into his chest. The force made him stumble back, but her foot behind his forced him to lose balance and stagger. It would have been a painful landing, but Sharis followed him down, knelt beside him as the water froze and formed a cage around his chest. Pinning him to the ground.

“That would have been a kill.” Sharis said. “I think that was your third strike, J’zargo. I win this one.”

“This one agrees. It feels good to have such a worthy opponent at long last.” J’zargo panted, frozen to the floor. He smiled, relieved and somewhat grateful that he had been able to let go, and liberate his full potential.

The other mages were good. but Sharis was not only skilled in casting formidable spells, she was robust and hardy. Her Breton blood gave her the advantage of being capable of taking a hit and keep bouncing back.

 

Sharis smiled too. The ice cage across his ribs melted as she let go and helped him up. The small group of mages who had been watching the dual applauded her and J’zargo for their arcane production. Along with them was her loyal companion, stood tall with a strange glimmer in his eyes. His lips curled upwards and brows relaxed, giving him a serene look. A very pleasant change from his usual serious face. She walked towards him, and he began to meet her halfway.

“Well, what do you think?” She grinned. His lips taut as his smile grew .

“Wonderful. Would I be correct in saying, that I witnessed some of our training techniques?” He asked raising a jesting brow. She smiled, delighted he had noticed she gave him a nod.

“It was beautifully executed.” He said. His face filled with pride as he looked down at her, handing over the bottle of spring water.

“Well… I learnt from the best.” She replied. A cold shiver running down her spine from the remnants of the ice spells.

“You flatter me…” He paused. His pleasant smile diluted with a concerned expression as his eyes scoured her. He quickly unfastened his cloak and threw it around her shoulders.

 

“Let’s retreat inside. Before you transform into an icicle.” She nodded again as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked with her towards the sleeping quarters.

“Well, you’ve certainly got him whipped.” Nirya chirped patronisingly as they crossed paths.

“I know. Isn’t he the best?!” Sharis replied amplifying her voice with a large proud smile. Her arm wander behind Casavir and pulled his metal plated chest closer. Nirya flashed a snide smirk filled with aversion.

 

“Bitch. She loves herself too much.” Brelyna huffed, following behind the feigning couple. “Sorry, don’t mean to be bitchy.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell. She IS a bitch. Don’t know why Urag likes her.” Sharis replied.

“I’m afraid one cannot help who they love.” Casavir replied. His words not only shocked her, but the tone in his voice sounded reproving. Ok, now she felt bad – no, she felt awful. It wasn’t in her nature to be spiteful. But Nirya’s narcissism had always rubbed Sharis the wrong way.

Still, why should she care what others say. It’s not like Casavir and herself  were in a real romantic relationship…This wasn’t real, it was just a show. Some reason coming to that conclusion hurt like a blunt blade being stabbed through her chest.

She subtly pushed away from Casavir as they reached the sleeping Quarters. Giving him a wry smile. Perhaps she was playing this ‘happy couples’ a little too well? For a moment there, she was even beginning to believe it herself. She turned to Casavir who was looking at her rather strange, a lost and quizzing glint in his eyes.

 

“Sorry.” She simply said.

“For what, my lady?” Casavir asked. She could swear he moved closer and his hand reached to bring her back. She waned a weak smile and shook her head.

“Nothing. I’m going back to bed. Need to be up early. Night guys.” She said. Dipping her head as she headed straight for her room. A chorus of ‘goodnights’ followed her as she left Casavir stood in the hall. The vibrant blue central light glowing on his confused and perplexed expression.

 

 _“Sorry for what, my lady?”_ There was so much she needed to apologize for. Asking him to lie about their relationship. Pushing him to agree with the stories she had told about their first date, their first kiss. _Fuck, how fucking pathetic._

She reached her room, she knew Casavir would be here shortly, she finished her mug and fell into bed. Closing her eyes and throwing the blanket over her. In the morning they would be leaving in search of the crazy author of the book. Something about him setting off into the sea of ghosts?

 

Gods, how in Oblivion were they going to find him?! He could be dead! His corpse could be sitting at the bottom of the icy waters beneath them. Still. The thick ice caps, the bobbing icebergs and shallow patches of land that was out there. There was a chance he could survive out there. Especially once taking into consideration, all the ship wrecked travelers and merchant boats that would lose their way and meet their doom in those waters. One could salvage resources to make a hut, or even live in one of the ships themselves. Knowing this was the only lead they had to find an elder scroll, she didn’t really have a plan B. This was their only lead, they had to at least try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sharis felt a presence stirring beside her. Squinting weakly through the dim lit room. A man stood over her at the side of her bed. Tall, strongly built, clean shaven and his thick black hair was somewhat dishevelled.

“My lady?” He whispered softly as he knelt down beside her bed, his blue eyes glittered with flecks of golden light from the candle he had just lit beside her.

“Casavir? What’s wrong?” She sat up. She tilted her face away as she yawned, rubbing her eyes. Her attention immediately snapped to him when his large hand clasped around hers that rested on her knee.

“My lady, what happened this evening? Did I say something wrong?”

“W-what? No, it wasn’t you, Casavir. I just…” She looked down at his hand holding hers, his thumb stroking along the row of knuckles. She looked up at him for a brief second, his blue eyes so full of concern. His fair skin was glazed with a honeyed glow and the shadows that cast upon him only made him look more intriguing. _Oh Cas, my Cas…_ She sighed.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve made you go along with this stupid facade. Making you pretend we’re together is almost like verbally lying.” She sighed. Looking down at their enfolded hands.

“True.” He agreed. “Although, Just because I am impersonating a lover’s status. This does not necessarily  mean..” He paused again, reaching with his other hand to delicately turn her face towards him. “It does not mean that my feelings for you are a fabrication.”

“…. What?” His words turned into the most difficult dwemer puzzle at that moment. “Cas, I… What do you mean?”

His brows softened and the corner of his lips quirked upwards. The pad on his thumb stroked her cheek softly. “I believe you know what I mean.”

Before she knew it, Casavir had pulled himself to sit on the bed. His knee raised on the mattress to give his undivided attention to her. She looked up at her companion. His Nordic, hereditary form towered hers. Leaving her at the mercy of his divine ensorcell. The hand holding his raised and placed her palm against his chest. His firm muscles underneath welcomed her along with his warmth. The hypnotic thump of his heart vibrated against her hand. Heat burned her cheeks, she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Her eyes looked away from his intense gaze, but when his hand tilted her face upwards she couldn’t help but look back up. Casavir was leaning towards her, so close, their nose brushed against each other and his hot breath tortured her body as it caressed her lips.

“I cannot lie about my love for you, my lady.” He whispered. His deep voice, rich with seduction. Her heart thumped like a battle drum in her chest, her eyes drifting to a close, succumbing to her long awaited need for him.

 

“Cas, I…”

“I love you, my lady.” With those last soft words, his lips grazed against hers, testing the waters before he took the plunge. Her eyes fell shut as she extended her neck to have his lips claimed hers. They were just as soft as she hoped. The taste of snowberry tea. She gave out an involuntary moan as her fingers clutched to his shirt.

He pulled back a fraction to smile softly. “My Sharis.”  He purred before claiming her lips more urgently. The hand cupping her face slid to the back of her head, pulling her closer.waves of sweet euphoric pleasure washed over her from his kiss. Her body’s deep pit of desire burnt white hot as she clung to him.

“Take me.” She pleaded, through pants. He did not respond to her with words, but instead wrapped an arm around her waste and pulled her in against him. Her arms around around his shoulders as he laid her back down, followed by him laying on top of her.

She looked upto him, his shirtless body overwelmed her, her body ached for him. His fair skin radiated warm as he climbed under the sheets, his eyes filled with hunger as he leant down and kissed down her jaw to her exposed neck. His kisses sent gentle waves of pleasure to run through her. His large hands caressed up her waist as his thumbs  hooked her shirt up and over her breasts. His mouth worked down her body to her chest. His hot breath tickled her erect nipple before his lips descended upon it. His other hand clasping around the other.

 

“Ah, Cas…” She gasped reaching to rake her fingers through his thick black hair. A moan vibrated on his lips as he sucks the nub. She writhes under the pleasure he fills her with, Gods, she could feel something awakening inside her. She moans, his face coming to meet her as he steals a kiss.

She felt him positioning himself between her legs. Something hard pressed against her lubricious flower. A part of her was scared, but a part of her was cheering with glee. Finally! This was happening!

She felt him push slowly, he softly moaned as he carefully entered her. With it, an unusual sensation filled her – not bad, very pleasant actually. When she felt his waist press against hers, and a full sensation welled in the pit of her stomach. He pulled himself up to look at her. His eyes a concoction of emotions. worry, pleasure, love, happiness… lust. She knew why he was looking at her, without saying a word she smiled, letting him know she wasn’t in pain (Very much the opposite).

“I love you.” He said. His deep voice was hoarse and thick with desire.

“I love you too.” She reach out for him to hold her again. He smiled, his pearly white teeth flashed at her as he came down to meet her. She gasped as she felt him begin to move. The foreign object inside her sent swirling waves of pleasure to course through her body. She couldn’t help but moan. Like steam building in a kettle, the pleasure built, and built inside until it was almost driving her insane.

The warm waves swam through her body as she clung to him. The euphoric pleasure reached boiling point as she feared her body could take no more of this. She held onto him tightly, feeling as though she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall.

 

“Cas… I think I’m…!” She gasped. Feeling her end dawning.

“It’s alright, my lady.” He moaned against her neck, lifting himself to look at her, his eyes dark with deep desire. Beads of sweat glittered on his brow. “Let go, I’ve got you.” He soothed. With that, she felt her damn ready to burst its banks.

“Cas!” She cried. But as she did, she opened her eyes. Staring at the ceiling in her dark room.

 _It was a dream?… it was a fucking dream!_ She felt like screaming, her body hummed with the built up pleasure the dream had gifted her, and tortured her with no release. Her eyes snapped over to Casavir who was sleeping soundly in his bed.

Thank the Gods she wasn’t one for talking in her sleep! She didn’t know what she would say or do if she woke up to have Casavir at her side, wondering why she was moaning his name.

The image of Casavir’s naked body over her flashed through her memory, the rippling muscles and strong flat stomach, that treasure trail of hair from his belly button, leading down to the buried treasure. She blushed.

 _What the fuck!? Where did that come from?!_ She quickly rolled over in her bed away from Casavir’s sleeping form as she scrunched her eyes.

_Stupid Paladin._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The sea of ghosts. So this was it. All those weeks, stuck on that ship travelling from Cyrodil docks to Skyrim. Listening to the sailors singing loudly and obnoxiously about what they do to drunken sailors. He had heard them spin tales of this place. The Sailor’s graveyard was it’s nick name.

He’d heard stories of ships being blown off course by the raging storms that dominated this part of Skyrim. Storms so fierce, that sailors would loose their way and end up being stranded in these shores, finding themselves lost and meeting their doom in this cragged shoreline.

 

“My lady, are you sure this is where he said he went?” He asked with an uneasy edge to his voice.

“This is where Urag said ‘Septimus’ went. It’s the only leed we have, Cas. I need to know if he’s out there.” She said, taking a step towards the iced shoreline.

“Could we not travel by a small boat?” He asked, wincing as she stepped onto the ice.

“No one has a boat round here. The fish prefer warmer waters, theres no fishermen in Winterhold.” She replied, then she paused for a moment before turning to him with a curious look.

“Cas? Can you swim?”

“Yes. But unfortunately, my armour is not as buoyant as I would wish it to be.” He replied. “Nor am I content in the idea of taking a dip in these waters.” He chuckled.

 

“Don’t worry, Cassie. If you fall in, I’ll haul you out.” She giggled, stepping onto the ice with a glide.

“That would be most kind of you, my lady.” He smiled, watching her, sliding on the ice like it was sport.

_C’mon Casavir, stop being a wuss._

He sighed, taking the first step onto the ice. Every bobb or wobble of the thick ice he stepped on put him on high alert. He hated this, he hated this so much! He was so happy to finally be on land again as they crossed the short bout of ice, reaching the small island on the other side.

Well, there was a chance this ‘Septimus’ was still alive. The amount of debris from ships that had been destroyed on these shores was enough to make a hut. Though, the old Nordic structure they crossed looked promising.

Nope! No such luck. All that was there, was walking bones and a draugr overlord who clearly woke up on the wrong side of the cist. She did consider for a minute that maybe one of these skeletons could be this ‘Septimus’ they were looking for, but no. They were looking for an old man, but not that old!

 

They were far out now, again walking along the road of floating ice. The sky growing darker as snow fell around them. Casavir did not have much knowledge on cold climates, but even he could feel a storm brewing.

Perhaps they should have stayed at those old ruins. Until the storm blew over, or even the night! The days were shorter in this hold, night ruled this land and daylight was just a fleeting star. He sighed, blowing away his nerves as he could feel the ice unsteady under his boots, every sound of the ice under his feet kept him on edge.

He looked up at his lady who was ahead. He wasn’t too happy about the distance between them. Before he could call out for her. She stood and pointed to something, pulling her scarf from over her face.

“Look! Over there!” She pointed ahead. He could just make out a large iceberg in the distance. A warm glowing light was posted against it’s icy walls. A torch.

 

“That has to be it.” She shivered.

“I pray it is.” He replied, finally catching up to her. But just as he caught up, she was off again. Walking with haste towards the iceberg, unaware of how thin the ice suddenly became beneath her. There was a rumble beneath them, and then a loud crack.

“My lady!” Casavir shouted as the ice gave way, sucking her under. It all happened so fast, his body failed to react quick enough to save her.

He began his search for her immediately, she was most likely pulled under by the current. He  had to be careful not to slip and break through the ice himself. Though Casavir had for a split second considered diving into the icy depths after her. But he was no fool. He knew it would most likely result in both their deaths.

_Gods please preserve her._

 

He could hear his racing heart, pounding in his ears. With panic coursing through his body, he scoured the ice patch. He couldn’t see a foot in front of him now, the snowfall was growing more perilous by the minute. Every second she was hidden from him was agonizing. Crystal tears stung his eyes as his chest grew tight. The thought that he had lost her, that he had failed her. The feeling made him feel weak in the knees and he just wanted to scream. But a hope pushed him on.

 _Gods, please, don’t do this!_ He prayed. Inhaling in the cold sea air. Just then, he thought he saw a light glowing on the ice. It was coming from underneath.

 

“Sharis!” He immediately rushed over towards the glowing ice, careful not to step into the same trap. The ice and the fresh fallen snow around the yellow light was melting. Then a hand pushed through the ice, fire blazing like dragon’s breath from the palm of a very delicate female hand.

“My lady, hold on!” He gripped her delicate hand in his as the flames vanished and the hand reached for stability. She had pushed a hole through far away from edge of the ice, he had no choice but to make a hole.

Casavir began hacking at the ice with his fist. He could feel the pull of the current against his hold on her, threatening to steal her away from him. Her free hand dug into the ice hole desperately trying to widen it to climb out.

It was not the starvation of oxygen that was Casavir’s concern. He knew very well that Sharis knew a spell to remedy that issue. The cold was their enemy. Kynareth’s icy breath was crippling their efforts to free Sharis, the brewing snow storm was freezing the ice patch quicker than they could break it.

Her grip on his hand was weakening. She was running out of time. With his free fist he punched repeatedly on the ice, his hand ached from the constant impact. He did not cease until it was wide enough for her to poke her head up through the hole and take a large intake of breath.

 

“Hold on, my lady. I’ll get you out. Don’t let go.” He gripped her hand tight. She couldn’t speak, her rosy lips were now a pale blue, her olive skin was now almost as pale as the snow surrounding her. The water on her cheeks was already beginning to freeze. If he did not get her out soon, she would freeze to death.

“My lady, go back under. But don’t let go of my hand.” He ordered quickly. She nodded with her trembling blue lips and he pushed her back under. Casavir drew back his free hand, conjuring his smite evil, his arm muscles as taut as a bow string, he fired his arm forward, like a ball being fired out of a cannon. His fist struck the ice with an almighty blow.

 _Thank the Gods,_ it worked! But his actions had its consequences.

 

Upon the impact with his fist, there was a loud crack. A crack from the ice giving way, but also the sound of his hand breaking in many places. Pain shot up his arm like acid in his veins. He winched in agony letting his hand lifelessly drop to his side as he hauled her through the compact hold he had just made.

He pulled her away to give distance from the hole and pulled her into him. She was trembling in his arms, drenched with icy water in the middle of a blizzard. But she was here, she was in his arms. He threw the tail of his cloak around her and pulled her close. Her forehead pressed into his neck to offer her some warmth.

 

 _Stendarr, Arkay, Mara, Thank you._ He closed his eyes and squeezed her against him. Warm liquid soaked inside his gauntlet as the pain throbbed up his arm. He could not offer her any warmth but the skin on his neck and the heat of his breath. He inhaled sharply as icy fingers cupped his cheek. He looked down at their source. Sharis. She weakly smiled up behind trembling lips, her vibrant hazel eyes were weary.

“….M… My h-hero.” She shivered. Words would not leave him, feeling his lower lip tremble and the tears sting his eyes he blinked hard, biting down on his lip as he pulled her in more to shield her from the wind.

He looked around, biting harder on his lip until its sting counteracted the pain in his right arm. The torche light was still visible in the distance – for now. He needed to get her out of this storm or she’d perish in his arms. He couldn’t go back to the old ruins, they were too far gone and he’d most likely get lost. There was no where to go now, but towards the faint yellow glow ahead of them.

_Gods please let there be shelter._


	25. Haven

“Watch your head, my lady.” Casavir said as she headed through the wooden trap door that was leading further into the iceberg.

 

“Y-you think, h-he’s in here?” Sharis asked shakily as Casavir pulled the wooden crate back over the entrance.

 

“I hope so, it certainly would be beneficial to us. Still, at least we are out of the storm.” Casavir responded. As he landed at the bottom of the ladder rather awkwardly and fell against the wall. Sharis jumped forward to help him up and grabbed his arm. Jumping away from him when he cried out in pain upon her grip on his arm. Her face was etched with concern as she noticed him clasping his arm, her eyes widened when she saw the blood smear along the blue wall.

 

“Do not worry about me, my lady. I’ll be fine.” He said reassuring her when he saw her eyes staring down his injured arm to the bloodied gauntlet, drips of crimson liquid fell onto the ice at his feet.

 

“W-why, why are you b-bleeding?! Wha- what ha-happened?!”

 

“Please don’t worry, It’s just a break.”

 

“Break?!”

 

“I shall mend it just as soon as I get you warm and dry.”

 

“Bu-but your ha-hand.” She stepped forward trying to reach for it again. He quickly caught it mid descent, holding it gently.

 

“Sharis, don’t.” He said sternly. His response shocked her. She remembered hearing a crack pierce her ears as Casavir’s fist hit the ice. 

 

“Forgive me, I appreciate your concern, my lady. But right now, I am more concerned about you.” He replied. Turning to her, releasing her hand and placing his hand on her shoulder. She stared at him incredulously for a while. Her mind thinking over what he was saying. She was angry, yet sad. She knew very well when he had sustained that injury. When she was under the water, she heard the crack of the thin ice give as his fist dislodged a chunk. She now realised it wasn’t just a crack from the Ice she had heard. It was his fist.

 

She nodded as she finally accepted his request. The sooner she was out of these clothes, the sooner she would be able to help him deal with the aftermath of his heroic and stupid actions. Just then, footsteps echoed through the air. They stared at each other as their eyes grew wider. Neither of them were moving, so the sound was one they were not expecting. She jumped in front of her wounded Paladin and conjured her flames in her hands, oh how the warm tingle of flames caressed her sore and stiff fingers. 

 

Just then, an old man emerged from around the corner. Wrapped up in mages robes and a very thick, cosy looking hood. He stared at them for a moment, not a word. He didn’t even seemed fazed that two strangers had just wandered in here. She stared at him curiously, standing protectively in front of her Paladin. She may have been cold and wet, her body was rigid and quivered as she stood in a staring competition with the old man. Then in hit her… An old man? Living on the sea of ghosts? 

  
  
  


“Septimus?” Sharis finally spoke, making sure to steady her voice so she didn’t look like a drowned skeever that had just been cornered. As soon as she spoke the man’s eyes widened as he began to step forward. His eyes turned their attention to her hands. She heard the rasping sound of Casavir’s steel dagger at his hip as he suddenly came beside her. 

 

“Are you mad girl! Don’t bring your fire in here!” The man barked. Unfazed by the Knight’s protective stance beside the lady. 

 

“Oh, sorry.” Sharis immediately extinguished the fire. The man stopped. 

 

“What do you want?” Sharis could feel anger tickling her at the old man’s response. She wanted to stay calm but the warmth the anger brought was rather welcoming at this moment. Thankfully Casavir spoke to save her before her mouth went wandering. 

  
  


“I apologise for our invasion into your..." Casavir looked around the hollow iceberg questionably before he continued. "...Home... We, We have been travelling on the ice caps in search of a man named ‘Septimus’. Would that be you, perhaps?"

  
  


"Septimus? Sep-ti... ah yes. That's me!" The old man's smiled wiry and crooked, but not a shred of malice. 

  
  


"Thank the gods!" Sharis sighed. 

 

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir. I do apologise but my lady is in desperate need of assistance. The ice caps broke and she fell under. She requires a place to rest while her armour dries and..."

 

"Yes yes. Come come! Don't dilly dally boy!" Septimus snapped. The old man turned and gestured for them to follow him. Sharis looked up at Casavir, silently questioning whether they should follow. Neither of them were fighting fit at this moment in time. But they had scraped through worse than this. Besides, what harm could an old man do? Even in their current state, they could easily deal with this man if he turned out to be some creepy psycho.

 

Casavir nodded and walked ahead, his hand still on the hilt of his freshly sheathed dagger at his side. The old man scurried ahead, dragging his feet as his robes dragged behind him.

  
  


They followed Septimus further through the icy tunnel until it began to open into a hollow core of the iceberg. The path spiraled around the outer side of the room down to the bottom. At the bottom there was some furniture. A bed, a table, a chair and a shoddy looking wardrobe. Nothing sinister. Well except the great huge Dwemer looking box in the ice. Sharis stepped closer to Casavir and looped her arm with his. Upon feeling her hold, he released his grip on the blade and moved his arm to come around her, pulling her protectively under his wing.

 

They reached the bottom of the spiral path. Before either of them could ask about the strange box, the man turned and grabbed Sharis by the arm.

 

"Sit, sit girl." He wiggled his index finger as he pointed to the chair. Sharis could feel Casavir's protective arm pull her closer into him. She knew he disapproved of the man's brash actions. Though Casavir couldn't use his fist, there was nothing but manners stopping him from kicking or even headbutting the old coot.

Casavir walked with her protectively in the crook of his arm to the chair the man was pointing to.

 

"I have a spare tunic in my satchel, my lady. You may wear it until your supplies are dry." He quickly dropped his bag while Sharis sat down, accepting a vial of resist frost, that Septimus planted in her hands.

 

"Well. Off to bed for me." Septimus said as he scuttled off the the bed at the other side of the room.

 

"Sleep well, sir. And thank you." Casavir bowed his head. Placing his spare tunic beside Sharis. He set their things aside. One handed, he threw his bed roll down and rolled it out while he knelt on the end.

  
  


“Cas, le-lemme see your hand.” She said her blue lips trembled and her teeth clattered. She hated seeing him doing this for her, witnessing his efforts and struggles was painful.

 

“No, not until you are taken care of. The bones in my hand are broken. It will take more than a quick healing spell to bring it back to usability.” He replied. He stuffed his satchel under the head part of his bedroll.

 

"Cas?" She called to him.

 

"Yes?"

 

“I c-can’t move my f-fingers.” Sharis confessed. Her hands trembled violently under her wet gauntlets , holding them close to her hunched body. The vials of ‘resist cold’ Septimus had given here were holding Hypothermia and frostbite at bay. But Casavir knew she wouldn’t recover if she drip dried. Being at a disadvantage without the use of a fire, she would perish. Panic flooded him at the thought of seeing her ebb away, he couldn’t let that happen. She meant to much to the world – to him!

 

Adrenaline burnt in his veins as he came to a conclusion of what needed to be done.  _ Oh Gods, I can’t believe I’m actually suggesting this _ . He looked over at the old man; who was turned away and tucked in under his furs before he made his way over to the little Breton. Taking a deep inhale to calm his nerves.

  
  


“My lady. Do i have your consent to help you undress? I assure you that this is not an excuse to take advantage of you. I only wish to help. I will not touch you unless you allow it, and you will be in full control.”

 

“It’s OK. I trust you. Please help me?” She swallowed hard, struggling to hold her voice steady. He nodded and placed his gauntlet under his arm as he pulled it off, asking her to guide him along the process. His eyes were determined and full of focus, unwavering as he robotically followed her guidance. First was her gloves, upon seeing the redness and stiff demeanour, he brought her hands to his neck. He gasped sharply at the sudden icy touch on his skin, but he endured and focused on the task at hand. The sudden heat against her hands was painful but was also very comforting. She cooed softly as the heat slowly worked its magic on her as bit by bit her armour freed from her body

  
  


So, the bits and pieces of armour were off. The leather cuirass was the last bit and it was causing problems. The one handed Paladin was struggling. She hated seeing him like this. This was all her fault! She should never have come out here for that crazy old fart. They could be at the college right now, swapping stories, goofing around with her friends, showing the whole of Winterhold how lucky she was to have him by her side. Looking at him now, struggling to unburden her of her freezing wet clothes, with only the use of one hand because the other one was broken in efforts to save her after she had been too confident.  _ This is all my fault,  _ She bit her lip as it began to tremble the hard lump in her through was impossible to swallow as tear welled in her eyes.

  
  


“I’m sorry.” Her voice became strangled in her throat. Casavir, once fully focused on the stubborn bit of lace that refused to let go, immediately shifted his attention to the sound of a whimpering woman before him. He pulled back slightly to justify his curiosity but she dropped her head to shield herself away from his gaze.

 

“Wh- what’s the matter? Do you want me to stop?” He pulled his hand away. She shook her head.

 

“I’m ju-just so sorry. F-for everyth-ing. This is all my f-ault, we should n-ever have come h-  here.” She eyed the hand that hung motionless at his side. “And...” 

 

“My lady, you cannot blame yourself for this. It was not your intention to go under, yes – could have been more careful. But that would not have guaranteed that this would not have happened.”

 

“Oh Casavir, Shut up and let me finish!” She managed to weakly curl her fingers to grip the back of his neck. Casavir held his tongue and bowed his head slowly, waiting for her to continue.

 

“It’s not just this. Back at the College, I made you lie about our relationship – leading everyone on the idea we were an item. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry.”

 

“You didn’t make me lie. You told me to stay quiet and to just ‘roll with it’.” Casavir replied. “It was you that spread the false tales, I just never corrected you.”

 

“I guess so...” She sniffled. There was a long pause which Casavir took as being the end of the discussion. “So, do you still wish for me to help you with your wet attire?” She nodded snucking up her self woe as he continued to struggle with the knot. Moments passed and his fumblings continued before he paused, pulling back to meet her gazed again. His brows knitted into a highly strung manner as he grimaced slightly.

  
  


“ My lady, I'm having difficulty doing this with just the use of one hand. I  may have to use my teeth. Would that be admissible for you?”

 

“Ada-wha?”

 

“Are you alright with me using my teeth to take this off.” His chuckled. His face was turning redder than snowberries, his warmth burning wonderful heat through her hands. She stared blankly at him for a few moments, but the corners of her lips curled up as she giggled. Oh good gods this was getting intense! With little other options she nodded.

 

“Don't bite me, OK?” She warned. He chuckled nervously and he leant in eyeing his leather target.

 

“I would never hurt you, my lady.” He soothed. Inches away from her breasts his jaw closed in on the knot, jerking his head a little as it slacked. She felt the heat returning to her body as her heart pumped the warm heat around her. The warmth of his burning cheeks radiated through the wet cloth that was left on her body. His fingers digging at the lace, his thick black hair smelt like sandalwood, diluted with his intoxicating masculine scent. The image of his naked form towering over her came flooding back. She licked her dry lips and swallowed hard before biting her lip to retain her childish giggling, she couldn’t help but feel awkward with this, if she felt awkward, then there was no doubt he must be feeling humiliated.

  
  


“Good boy.” She teased with a nervous giggle. As he drew back with the cuirass in his mouth, quickly glancing at her with a curious expression in his eyes before dropping the leather piece down beside them. His entire face was bright red but he breathed a nervous laugh, which sounded more like steam leaving a centurion. He wiped his mouth of the wetness and turned to quickly look over his shoulder at the old man who was laying in his bed in the corner, still facing the wall.

 

“Let me know if he turns round. I will not have an old man leering at you.” Casavir whispered earnestly.

  
  


This was going to be hard. They were at the last feat now. She sat before him in just her mage's robe. The cuirass had forced the sodden fabric to hug every inch of her curves. His vow was definitely his enemy at this moment. He looked down at his knees, His body felt almost split in two. One half wanted to drink in the divine beauty before him, and the other half simply fought against his urges. He was a man, and most of all he was a Paladin, and wanted nothing more than to keep her safe. He pulled his lips in tight and swallowed down saliva as his mouth began to water with the hankering temptation.

 

“I’ll... give you some privacy to do the rest?” He began to turn away but her voice stopped him.

 

“Arms. Help me with my arms.” She jerked her elbows and shakily stood to her feet. His eyes widened as he looked up at her. The man in him groaned in appreciation of her Dibella sculpted figure, his eyes blatantly staring at her body. He cleared his throat as an attempt to hide the hankering moan that unintentionally sounded as he stood too. Her wet hair messily framed her heart shaped face and her hazel eyes innocently looked at him as she held up her arms to him. He nervously swallowed another lump as he grabbed the cuff of her robe, looking towards at the old man in the corner as she began to twirl around. The wet fabric peeled from her skin and flopped to the floor. 

 

Immediately, Casavir gave her his towel to wrap around herself before he reached for the dry shirt on the table and held it out with an outstretched arm, his eyes vigilantly fixed on the sleeping man. He could hear her fumbling around behind him, her incoherent cursing and muttering as she growled in annoyance. "Cas?" She finally spoke. He turned his head slightly, just to show her he had heard her call to him and that he was listening. “I ne… need you to… help me get my… breast wrappings off.” Her request made his heart stop.

  
  


_ Oh sweet Dibella, have mercy _ . He sighed heavily and stepped towards her, his eyes focused solely on the tips of his fingers as he reached for the bindings. The knot was tight.  _ Damn it _ , he sighed, frustrated as he knew he would need to use his teeth again. “Err.. My lady?”

 

“It's ok. Use your teeth.” She replied before he could ask.

 

“I'm so sorry.” He sighed sincerely. Clearly embarrassed.

 

“Don't be, I’m just glad you’re here to help me get out of all this.” She brushed away the awkward air between them. He paused for a moment, her calm mood and professional approach to this delicate situation helped soothe him. 

 

“Me too.” He replied. Immediately regretting letting his mouth open when he saw Sharis’ face look at him quizzically and somewhat amused. “I MEAN… to help you… with…. Ahh…!” The heat coming off his face felt like he could burn a hole through this ice cocoon. She laughed warmly, as his face screwed up with embarrassment. “It’s alright. I know what you mean. Now, please get this off me..?”

 

“Yes, my lady.” He nodded, breathing deeply through his nose, he knelt down, his eyes fixed on the knot where he would bite. He then closed his eyes and leant in, biting on the fabric with his incisors. The tip of his nose and the length of his little finger brushed against her cold skin, sending a soft pulse of electric warmth to every nerve in his body. She gasped, the electric wave had washed through her too. His warm skin was so inviting. “Hot nose.” She chirped with a playful tone. He couldn't stop a bashful laugh that left his throat as he nipped at the knot. His hot breath rippling against her skin made her shiver, a strange ‘guurrh’ sound left lips. He tried to ignore it. 

  
  


Thankfully the knot slackened quickly and allowed him to pull away before it fell open. Quickly they put the tunic over her head and helped her put her arms in before removing the wrappings underneath. Holding one end of the wrappings as she spun around. He helped her kick off her boots, he was thankful when she wished to dress the lower part herself. The whole biting her breasts wrapping had pushed against his line of personal boundaries.

 

When she was dressed she sat in his bedroll. Wrapped in his cloak, her back pressed against the large wooden chest with her knees bent, holding a small bottle of snow berry juice that Casavir handed her.

  
  


“Thank you, Casavir.” She smiled thoughtfully at him, her relaxed brows and warm smile filled him with happiness upon realising his achievement. He would not deny it. That had to be one of the most uncomfortable moments he had experienced in many years. He would never deny her beauty, the grasp her unguarded eyes help on him.

 

“You’re welcome.” He bowed his head.

 

“Now you.” She said. Ordering him to tend to limp hand at his side. He nodded and sat on the chair by the table. With a wooden spoon to bite down on, he carefully pried his gauntlet off his wounded hand. The gasp that left Sharis ricocheted off the walls as she saw the mess.

Blood covered his swollen hand like a glove, his fingers bent crookedly and knuckles bulged. Bone poked out from three places in the dorsal side of his hand. She felt sick the pit of her stomach, the guilt dropped in her like a stone.

  
  


“You… You stupid man!” She barked. Scuffling to her knees as she reach up to sit with him.

 

“My lady, no.” He grunted behind the wooden spoon as her shaky hands grabbed his forearm, inspecting the hand, her lashes sparkled with wetness.

 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” She growled, trying to keep her voice down so the old man wouldn’t wake. "I don't care if I'm freezing under the ice. You ever, EVER do this to yourself again. I'll...!" Her emerald and gold eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at him. The wooden spoon he was biting on almost fell out of his mouth as he saw tears in her eyes. He didn't know what to say.

 

This had to be the first time anyone had been so concerned about his well being. Before he met Sharis, he was a warrior. A weapon of the Gods. He would fearlessly throw himself into the heat of battle, facing his enemy head on. Many called him Selfless. Stupid even. Maybe that was what it was. The truth was that he just lost the will to care about himself. After everything, everything that happened. He just didn't care if he lived or died. He cared little for his well being, his concern was always the safety of others. To protect, and to serve. 

 

But now... This woman trembling from the cold or the suppressed tears she was holding back as she gently emptied the waterskin over his hand. She cared for him. She actually cared... He had forgotten how it felt to know someone was worried for him. The sight brought a lump to his throat and a painful tightening in his chest. He felt tears building in his eyes. Gods. He did not deserve her benevolence, but nevertheless, he was grateful, honored, to have it. He dropped the spoon on his lap before he spoke.

  
  


"My lady... I'm sorry if I've caused you distress." He said, his rich deep voice was thick with concern as he attempted to soothe the pain he had clearly caused. 

 

“You're such a fucking idiot sometimes.” She whimpered, angrily wiping her tears away with his cloak that draped on her shoulders. He grimaced briefly upon her profane language, but his heart swelled as a warmth filled him. He placed his uninjured hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up.

 

"I will be fine, my lady. Please. Don't be sad." He said, a warm, kind smile that reached his eyes. She shook her head and looked down at his hand. “This is my fault. I should have been more careful.”

 

“No, it was not you who decided it would be ‘clever’ to punch ice.” He smirked jestfully, attempting to lighten the mood.

 

“You wouldn’t have had to be ‘clever’ if I hadn’t been stupid.” Her words caught in her throat as she held back the painful lump in her throat. His heart ached upon seeing her like this, he didn’t want to see them tears, they were unnecessary, unwelcome. He shook his head and gripped her shoulder a little hard as he spoke calmly to her.

 

“And I would do it again, if it meant you would be here beside, me. Now please, let’s move on.” Casavir said, his calm and assertive words soothed her. Sharis' lips quivered in a tight line before she reached up to him, pulling him in for a hug, His warm neck against her icy cold cheek made her sound another involuntary ‘gurrhh’, her face nestling further into his collar. He sighed, grinning at the peculiar sound as his strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against him.

  
  


“My lady, I need to realign it first.” He said. She frowned at him, blinking hard to fight the tears. “May I have your assistance?” He asked softly. Though he knew the answer already, he needed to see the soft smile on her face to fight away those unbidden tears. She nodded and waited for instructions. 

 

Together they helped mend the broken hand. After she was done cleaning the wound she poured out the contents of a small vial containing a red liquid over the hand. He inhaled sharply behind the spoon he was biting down on. She handed him the vial and he quickly sipped the rest as he carefully aligning the twisted fingers to sit correctly on his knee. The bitter taste of the potions made him shiver but it soon displaced into a warm feeling. Like hot tea on a cold night.

  
  


Sharis unbuckled his chest plate while he restored his hand to its former glory. Carefully helping him out of his steel layers she couldn’t help but coo as she felt the warmth of his body radiating off his padding. She was back on the bedroll now, looking over at him as he sat on the chair inspecting his hand, exercising his fingers as he flexed them.

 

She was still cold, the icy shiver still ran through her. A fire in this iceberg was out of the question. There was nothing to help her warm up except the furs around her. Well... There was something...Someone, actually. She sat silently, eyeing him for a while as the courage to speak built inside her. “Cassie?”

  
  


“Yes, my lady?” He turned to her with a soft tone to his deep voice.

  
  


“...Can I... Can I ask you to do something for me...?” She bit her lip, hiding away from the embarrassment of what she was going to ask him.

 

"Anything, my lady. You have but to ask." He looked over at her serenely.  _ Well here goes nothing! _ Her battle cry sounded in her head. She gingerly to the side of the bedroll she was hip deep in, pulling the furs off her lap and gestured to a space beside her. He eyed her suspiciously, wondering what she was doing. “… Can you come and keep me warm?” She asked.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


The air was cold, the smoke of her warm breath in the cold air danced before her as she sat wrapped in the cloak and nestled into Casavir side. After helping him get out of this metal, she could finally huddle into his thick padded undercoat. She could hear his heart thumping loudly underneath her ear. He was nervous, of course he was nervous, but why? It’s not like she asked him to get naked and share a bedroll… He wasn’t in the bedroll! But this was the first time they had ever sat like this, blanketed with his cloak and some extra furs they found in the old man’s wooden box. Huddled together to keep warm. They sat in silence, staring at the creaking blue walls around them. Listening to the howling wind outside batter the iceberg’s peak. Her armour and supplies making puddles on the floor as they hung on the giant metal box that stood out like a sore thumb.

 

The silence brought so many thoughts to come to her, how much he had helped her. It must have been hard for him to be undressing a lady, especially after taking such holy vows against temptations. She was well aware he was a man. Paladin or not, he was a man, and men have needs and desires just as much as women or any other creature that reproduces. He had sacrificed so much, embarrassed him, put him on the spot, shouted at him, abandoned him, slapped him, put him under great pressure – and here he was. Still by her side. He had stuck with her, and now, she couldn’t see her journey without him. Her faithful and loyal Paladin.

  
  


“Cas?” She murmured softly.

 

“... Yes?” He answered apprehensively. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You do not need to keep thanking me.” He sighed.

 

“I mean - for not telling the other mages what I am. The dragon thing.” She spoke, staring at the now healthy hand that rested on his bent knee infront of them.

 

“It was not my place to speak.” Casavir replied. Her head rubbed against his chest as she nodded.

 

“I’d just prefer if they didn’t know.” She explained. “... The college is all I have left – before all this began. A part of me wishes I never left.” She mulled. She felt his body jerk a little as he nodded. “I understand.” He said. The room fell silent again. But a soft mewling sounds came from the little mage resting beside him, in the crook of his arm. Her body trembled, thinking she was still cold he reached round and pulled the cloak further up to cover her shoulder.

  
  


“He killed them… He killed them Cas…” Her voice made him pause mid-rub on her shoulder as he attempted to warm her. Before he could ask what she was talking about, she continued. “My mother, Father. My Gran, my uncle, my aunt… They’re dead because of Kharn.” Ah. So this was it… her brothers name finally surfaced from the depths of the forgotten.

 

But Casavir couldn’t help feel slightly confused. When Sharis had spoke about her past. Her family home, the bandits who were there to meet her. How did that sadistic devil come into their demise. “But I thought you said...”

 

“Bandits. Yeah, it was bandits. But he sent them. He told me, all because he was after me!” 

 

“You?” Casavir was even more confused… Then he remembered Kharn, the way his eyes ogled Sharis. The unnerving tone of his voice. “Ah…” He bowed his head slowly. 

 

“He was sick! How could he do that? His own family!” She trembled in his arms. Her voice rising to the point it made Casavir worry she may wake Septimus. He pulled her closer as she began to sob.

  
  


“I’m sorry, Sharis. I’m so sorry.” His voice strangled in his throat. He was glad she was finally opening up about the events that unfolded with her brother. But he was also filled with great sorrow. He had begun to think she never would speak of it again. It had been so long. But this was progress, he had prepared himself for this moment. What he would say, what he would do. But now, he felt so unsure – except hold her close and let her shed the tears she had been welling within her.

 

The sound of her weeping brought his heart to thump agonisingly, a lump in his throat and tears to sting his eyes. It was strange, he had seen people cry before, he had been a shoulder to cry on, a ray of hope in their darkest hour. But he had never felt this, it was as though he was feeling her pain too. Not just empathising with her, but actually feeling the pure and raw heartache that she was going through. He couldn’t say anything, no whispers of sweet nothings, no wise words that would bring her out of her hell. All he could do was hold her tight and ride through this with her.

  
  


“I miss them. I miss them so much.” She sobbed. “It’s my fault!”

 

“No.” He managed to say. “Believe me, I know your pain. But you must not blame yourself for his sick ways. None of this is your fault. Please Sharis, they wouldn’t want you to be torturing yourself.” Casavir gripped her tightly, as she continued to sob, moulding to him as he pressed her close. “Think of the good times, the ones that make you smile. Make you laugh. The ones that make you feel strong. They'll guide you through the dark.” Casavir soothed. Her body slumped further into him. His face burrowed into her hair, the scent of wild flowers and lavender mixed with the smell of the sea and Sharis. The sound that left her was soft, mewling, yet peaceful… a sound he had heard before. Large bulbous dragon eyes flashed through his mind. His little Sharis. 

  
  


They stayed like that for quite some time, peaceful and warm, wrapped into one another, safe in the haven they had created in the heart of this iceberg. Her cries had stopped long ago but she didn’t pull away, and he couldn’t bring himself to be the first to move - not matter how itchy the back of his neck got. 

 

“Cas? Do you have any family back home?” Her voice broke through the silence, sparked by her curiosity from his comment. Casavir was mute, his chest rose and fell deeply against her cheek, she could almost hear the piercing sound of her question cutting into him. She pulled away slightly to look at him. His eyes dark with pain and sorrow, averted away from her. He did not need to utter a word to respond to her question. Looking at him now, she understood. “I’m sorry.” She said softly. He shook his head lowly, breathing deeply through his nose . “It’s ok.” His voice now a whisper.

  
  


The sparkling silver chain around his collar caught the candlelight at that moment, her attention became drawn to it. Perhaps now was the right time to ask? Now his walls were somewhat down. 

 

She cautiously reached up, her cold fingers lingered gently against his warm skin and curled around the links before delicately bringing the caged gem out from behind the curtain that were his clothes. 

  
  


“It’s so beautiful.” She softly remarked, his face dropping to look at the pendent sitting between her delicate fingers. “Thank you.”

 

“…. Do you think… you could tell me its tale? I’m just curious. It looks such a delicate thing for a big burly knight.” She giggled softly. He voice calm and welcoming. His eyes were flickering with a strange emotion, sadness, nostalgia - both? She realised her efforts to ease this tension failed. “I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”

 

“No, no, it’s OK. Forgive me if I seem reluctant. It’s just, you’re the first person I will have told about it’s story.” She smiled warmly, her eyes lost in his, she blinked hard and came to rest in this crook of his arm again, staring at the deep blue gem behind the slithers of silver.

  
  


“This necklace is a replica of the one my mother used to wear. It’s not an exact likeness, as there is only so much one can do when all you have is childhood memories to work on.”

 

“Your mother?” She asked, he hummed softly to affirm. “Yes, she used to wear one like this. I never saw it after she… After she passed away.” She rested her arm across his chest and squeezed him gently. “I’m sorry, Cas. How old were you?”

 

“... I was five… I made this necklace when I was eighteen, if I remember rightly....? It’s so long ago now. My mothers’ necklace caged a crystal-blue diamond, but they’re extremely rare, almost impossible to find. So I made do with a tear-drop sapphire.” 

 

Sharis stared at the beauty of his jewelry smithing. He was amazing with smith work, no wonder his sword was still as sharp as a razor's edge after all these years. And his word on the ebony sword and knife of hers was flawless. 

  
  


“My mother was never one for jewellery. I remember, when I was four. She took her wedding ring off one day when she was doing some work on the mill. I found it. And I lost it.  We searched everywhere, but we never found it.Even to this day, I cannot remember where I put it.” She smiled, feeling the urge to add to the memory tree. 

 

“Well, that was unfortunate.” Casavir commented.

 

“Hmm, I remember I felt so bad for loosing it. I cried for hours under our family tree; I made her a ring out of yellow mountain flowers , hoping to replace the one it.” Sharis giggled, reminiscing about the good old days. When life wasn’t so hard, when the world was full of wonder and opportunities. Before the world reared it’s head to reveal the monsters that lurk behind the veil. Casavir’s soothing voice turned her away from her gloomy thoughts.

  
  


“When I was three, my mother taught me how to use restoration magic. I was such a clumsy little boy. I was forever bumping into things or falling over - there was a new bump and bruise every day. Well, I was so proud of this new found skill, that I healed a mouse that I saved from the house cat. When I healed it, the mouse sprang to life and darted across the room… and up my mothers dress. She screamed so loud and she jumped so high I thought her head was going to break through the roof.” Casavir chuckled as the memory played out in the front of his mind. Sharis’ laugh was heavenly as she mellowed it down as to not wake the old man. 

 

She couldn’t help but smile, squeezing into Casavir as she imagined him as a little boy. Yes, this big strapping man was a young little tot once. With big blue eyes, shaggy black hair and adorable chubby features. Adorned with Bumps and scabs, healing mice and frightening his mother more than once. She felt a warm tingle through her body at the thought. Knowing she was seeing more to the man she had been travelling with for so long - it was nice. It felt like he was opening up to her.

  
  


The long moments of comfort and warmth brought sleep to knock at her wakefulness. She fought back a yawn but when Casavir asked if she was tired, she nodded. He pulled away, trying to give her space to sleep but her hand gripped the padding of his coat. “Stay?” She pleaded nervously. He eyes dared not meet his. She was surprised, yet overjoyed when Casavir did not protest, but instead worked himself above and along the length of the sleeping roll. Reaching down to move the furs over his legs and the cloak over his shoulder. His body was close… too close! Though there was a layer of fur between them, she could still feel his heat, his powerful body enfolding her in his embrace - fighting away any string of cold left in her body. 

 

She shut her eyes to avoid the awkward and overwhelming sight that would meet her, the sight of Casavir being too close for temptation. Her soul screamed for him, her mouth ached to claim those soft lips. Their beauty echoed in her mind. Knowing they were so close was driving her insane. She wanted him, she wanted this - always! 

To have him so close it drove her to the brink of insanity. To know he was by her side, to feel his calm… his love? The aching beat of her heart pained her, she knew he could never be hers, but knowing - in her heart - she would only ever want this with him. She felt the tears well behind her lidded eyes and the lump in her throat return. She dipped her head further into the furs to hide from him; only to feel his hand begin to rub her back as he hushed her softly. “It’s ok, my lady. I’ve got you…” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Finally back on land, the confines of the old-fart-infested iceberg and the looming structure of the mages college was far behind them. Those damn items Septimus had given her were dragging her down, banging at her hips with each step as they hung to her belt.

 

_ “The deepest doors of the Dwemer listen for singing. The sphere, plays the attitude of notes proper for opening. Can you not hear it? Too low for hearings?” Septimus replied with a taunting tone which Sharis brushed off with a click of her tongue. _

_ “And this one?” She gestured to the cube he had also placed in her hand. _

_ "Ah, to glimpse the world inside an Elder Scroll can damage the eyes. Or the mind, as it has to Septimus." _

_ "I see." _

_ "The Dwemer found a loophole, as they always do. To focus the knowledge away and inside without harm. Place the lexicon into their contraption and focus the knowings into it.." _

 

The sooner they got to this Dwarven ruin the better. They surveyed the map endlessly and followed along the coast until they could find a steady path up into the ice fields. Sharis left Casavir in charge of map duties; he was much more knowledgeable with reading maps than she was. She took the time to scour the coast for driftwood, anything that they could use for a fire once they were up into the ice land. She had never been up into the glacial pale before, and she was taking no chances. Survival was key, they needed to be prepared for anything.

 

She looked over her shoulder at the Paladin who was walking close behind, he too was scouring the path for salvable resources. His serious, resolute expression softened when he met her gaze. She beamed a radiant smile at him as butterflies danced in her stomach, she had woken two days straight next to the hot blooded knight. Those had to be the best night sleeps she had ever had! Yes - it was upsetting to know she could not call him her other half, her lover. But that was what she wanted, not what she needed. All she really needed was him. She gave him a playful wink happily walked ahead, a soft bounce in her steps as she made her way along the shoreline.

 

She halted mid step when she saw something amongst the rocks, at first she thought they were just some pretty pebbles but then she realised what they were. "Ahhaa!" She carefully wobbled on the stones in the shallow water to get them. "Catch, Cassie!" One by one she tossed them over to him.

 

"What are these...?" He asked, quickly stuffing the map into his belt and caught one with one hand. "Clams!" She chirped. Oh what luck! All her food supplies were destroyed when she decided to take a dip through the ice. She didn't feel like continuing to rely on Casavir's food supplies, even though she knew he was more than willing to share. "Do you like clams?"

 

"I have never tried them." Casavir confessed as she landed back on shore and stuffed them into a old fisherman's net that she had salvaged from the shore.

 

"I guess we'll see." She smiled. Casavir nodded, the corners of his lips twitched upwards but fell neutral when he noticed the snow falling again. Much heavier than the mornings fall. Casavir exhale deeply, he didn’t want another blizzard upon them.

 

“Oh - OH! I never thought about doing this before.” She said with a bob up and down, her big unguarded eyes sparkled with energy. “Cover your ears, this is gonna be loud.” She turned to Casavir. He raised a confused brow before slowly covering his ears. Seeing this, she took a deep breath, her bright hazel eyes glazed over until they were nothing but pure white. She turned her back to him and tilted her head to the sky.

 

“LOK VAH KOOR!” Her voice turned multi-toned and rasping as it boomed from her throat. It shook the air and the snow parted, spanning out around them. As quickly as the snow had begun to fall, it vanished. The dark grey looming skies dissolved, displaying a vibrant pink and orange evening sky. His eyes could not help but gaze at the beautiful sunset. The colours were more vibrant in this cold and colourless land, shining beams of golden light upon the cold ground. The beautiful sight left him speechless, a wavered sigh in awe as he gazed at its beauty. But his his eyes fell to her as she turned to admire the view as well, her arms across her chest and breathing a contented sigh.

 

"It's beautiful." She sighed, smiling serenely at the sun dipping its head down behind the icy hills ahead. Casavir didn't hear her, he was too fixated in the sight before him. Not the sunset, but her. The way the warm rays of light made her sun kissed brown hair, glitter with strands of gold, the way some strands rebelliously curled and weaved out of her plait and fell perfectly down her face. The profile of her face, her plump full lips that curled upwards into a smile and her button nose. Looking at her now, in the evening sun. He once again saw the little dragon from his dream, the dragon that saved him from the foreboding anticipation of what was to be revealed behind the door by calling him to another. Though first appearances would make one believe she was fragile and vulnerable, she wielded immense power that stunned all. She was spirited, wild, challenging, abrupt. Rebellious and even vulgar at times - but her heart was good. She did not do this for gold, honor or a feeling of duty. It was because she felt it was the right thing to do -  and that made her the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. To hells with the sunset. It did not cast a shred of beauty against the woman stood before him.

 

The man inside him impulsively reached out for her, but the Paladin in him fought against him and attempted to pull him away - the Paladin was not winning this fight. His hand clasped the ball of her shoulder as his body stepped forward, mere inches away from her. His mind ran wild with desire to wrap his arm around her waist and pulling her into him. To run his hand through that thick wavy hair and to intently gaze into those big enchanting eyes. Before he could even take another advance towards her, that image was shot down immediately when she turned to look at him with a curious, yet warm smile. The pumped up courage that had waltzed forward suddenly went blundering back, as if she had shot it away with one of her Thu'ums. He gulped down the hard lump in his throat, his eyes ensnared in her gaze.

“You OK?” She asked, her cheeks turning a rosy blush. His words got stuck in his throat, his mouth opened and closed with not a word was said.  _ Oh Gods man, SPEAK!  _ “Err… I… i think we should find shelter, before the night is upon us.” He gave himself a silent round of applause inside himself as he managed to break away from the awkward.

"Agreed. C'mon. Let's get away from the shore line and find somewhere to make camp until the morning - But I want a nice view of that!" She said. Pointing to the sunset as she placed a hand on his forearm and gave the thick padding a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, my lady." He nodded.

  
  
  



	26. Falmer

 

  
  


“When I wake up, well, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the one who wakes up next to you.” Sharis sang merrily. Wading her way through the freshly fallen snow. 

 

“When I go out, yeah, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the one who goes along with you.” She grinned.

 

“If I get drunk, well, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the one who gets drunk next to you.

And if I haver, well, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the one who's havering to you” 

 

“C’mon Cas, join in!” She laughed. Casavir shook his head with a bashful smile on his face. “I’m afraid, I do not know the words.” He replied. 

 

“Fine.” She groaned.

 

“But I would walk five hundred miles

And I would walk five hundred more

Just to be the one who walked a thousand miles

To fall down at your door” She moonwalked backwards as she pointed to Casavir. A mutual understanding between as the words symbolised relatable events. She chimed a laugh when she saw him blush.

 

“Da lat da!” Sharis paused with a grin from ear to ear. Gesturing to Casavir who stared rather confused at her.  “Go on. Da lat da!” He stare for a moment. His mouth opened slightly before apprehensively reciting. “... Dat lat da…?” 

 

“Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle uh da-da!” She skipped on ahead, kicking mounds of snow as she went. 

 

_ Wow, what was in them clams? _ Casavir thought. Trying so hard to keep his cool, collected expression from cracking into laughter at watching her prance around like a puppy in their first snowfall. He could honestly say he wasn't a fan of clams… in fact - he could honestly say he detested them. The texture alone was terrible but the taste was… an acquired one, to say the least. Sharis seemed to like them though. And whatever was in them was sure giving her bountiful amounts of energy. 

 

“Da lat da!” She turned back to Casavir. 

 

“.... Da, da lat da.” He repeated to keep her happy.

 

“Da, da lat da.”

 

“.... Da, da lat da.” He replied again with the same awkward, flat tone. 

  
  


“Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle  un-OH!” Her hyper mood fizzled the moment she saw a building poking out of the snow ahead of them. “Look!” 

 

“Yes, I see. This must be the place.” Casavir replied, his eyes giving a once over on the map in his hands. 

 

“It has to be. C’mon.” Upon drawing closer to the stone building with a golden coned roof, she could see a wooden structure that was beyond repair. Old debris of what remained from a camp scattered around. 

 

“Wow… well, this guy didn’t have much luck!” She gestured to the fallen down tent; blanketing a weathered, frozen corpse, face down in the snow. Casavir gave her a slightly disapproving look before he headed towards the beyond repair shack, inside was a chest and a journal - a journal of someone who appeared to be a part of a excavation team. 

 

“What does it say?” She asked as she followed in after him. 

 

“It’s a journal, depicting what happened here. According to this, they had difficulties building a camp. A st- My lady… What are you doing?” He asked he noticed her playing with the lock on the chest. She turned to him with big innocent eyes. “Picking the lock.” She stated. Casavir’s brows furrowed as he held a reproving gleam in his steel blue eyes. 

 

“Oh, C’mon. Don’t give me that look! It’s not like they’re gonna come back for it!”

 

“They might.” Casavir tutted. But sharis raised a brow with a testing smirk as she pointed to the frozen corpse outside. “Besides. It might have something useful inside - perhaps a new whetstone for sharpening your sword. Or some health potions. Ah!” She cheered as the lock popped open. Pulling up the hood she stuck her head inside and rummaged through the loot. Nothing but old food and a pair of nasty looking fur boots. 

 

She looked over her shoulder at Casavir who was doing his best to ignore her actions by concentrating on the journal. She dropped the lid and wiped her cloves in the snow as she walked over to her companion. “Well? What does it say?” 

 

“They took shelter inside the ice cave. But… where’s the-?” He looked around to see Sharis pointing to a wooden bridge hanging off the face of the icy cliff. 

 

“Ah…” Casavir bowed his head and snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his satchel. She smiled and took lead down the bridge. 

  
  


“You think we could build a fire here?” Sharis asked. Being away from the icy wind was enough to make them both breath a sigh of relief, but the cold was still under their skin. They ventured down into the cave, abandoned equipment scattered everywhere as if they were in a hurry to get this stuff down here. Most likely due to the storm Casavir mentioned in the journal. 

 

“I’m not sure that would be wise.” Casavir’s large hand clasped her shoulder, he pointed ahead as he spotted something. Sharis turned and spotted it too. A campfire was nothing but ash, burnt out long ago. Around the fire was more clumsy laid out supplies and some abandoned bedrolls, stained with larges amounts of blood. 

 

“... Ok. Now things get interesting… and slightly worrying.” she said, looking cautiously around at what looked like the scene from a massacre - only there were no bodies. Just blood - and lots of it!

 

“We should tread carefully as we venture forward.” Casavir said, inspecting the ashen cold fire and the old tarred-blood. She nodded. After gathering what they could they ventured on through into the icy tunnel until the walls began to ebb of ice and turn stoney. They were welcomed by ancient dwarven security systems along the way. The first one startled Sharis and she couldn't help but kick the metal-spider-thingy across the room. Not a wisest choice she ever made. Considering her boots were leather, and that thing was metal. Still - nothing a quick healing spell couldn't fix.

 

“Casavir, just exactly much food supplies do we have?” She asked when they decided to take a break. 

 

“Enough for three days, I’d wager. Why do you ask?” Casavir said. Popping the cork on his waterskin before taking a sip. 

 

“I don't want to be stuck in here with no food and having turned to survive on my alchemy ingredients or munching on metal cogs.” Sharis groaned, feeling lost and disorientated as she stared at her surroundings. They’d been wandering these halls for what felt like forever. 

 

“I doubt it will come to that.” He replied with a chuckle. This place… it held a strange air, yet you couldn't help but be in awe at the same time. They were finding more installments of the excavation team’s journals; describing the events that had unfolded with the team. Things had gone horribly wrong. They were hearing things, seeing things, supplies going missing and people vanishing in the night. They had begun to turn on one another, and it was clear in the writing that there was a deep underlying fear etched into the ink on each entry. Because of this, she ordered Casavir to stay close to her, and NOT to wander off if he heard something suspicious during the times he was on watch.

 

They ventured deeper down into the ruins, the white bobbling light that twinkled gaily beside Sharis was their only source of light. They had come across what sounded like was left of the excavation team. A Kahjiit straddled over a lifeless body. He was screaming wildly in the corpse’s face.

 

_ "Where is it? I know you are trying to keep it for yourself, J'zhar... You always try to keep it for yourself! _ ” The sound of Casavir’s heavy armour clinking , and his heavy footsteps made the Khajiit jump to his feet.

 

“What? Who is this, Brother? Another of the smooth skins looking for food?” The Khajiit hissed. Glaring at Sharis with his callous and deranged stare. 

 

“Easy. We’re not here to ha-” It didn’t end well. The deranged feline pounced at Sharis the moment she began to speak, his claws drawn and his teeth snarling. But Casavir jumped forward and wrangling with the deranged Khajiit. He hadn’t wanted to hurt the man, but when his eyes glared into Casavir’s, the bloodthirsty rage the Khajiit was wielding. It was clear there was no more sanity left in him. Casavir gave him a quick death - not like the poor soul who the man had been screaming at. 

 

A journal entry beside the corpse showed they were related, Brothers. Both joining the team in hopes of ridding his brother of his Skooma addiction, only for it to turn sour and the brother’s insatiable addiction to come and bite them in their fury asses. Casavir frowned at her inappropriate pun, but after she had just almost been mauled but the deranged cat she deserved at least one insult to calm herself. She asked Casavir to help him carry the Khajiit to rest beside his Brother’s body before they ventured on. 

  
  


Through winding endless tunnels, they fought their way to a corridor of rooms, they scoured for supplies but all they found were old Dwemer scraps of metals, a few health potions, some roughly mined gems and armour. Sharis was smitten with a dwarven helmet she found, she giggled constantly when she saw Casavir’s subtle curiosity lingering in his beautiful blue eyes when she walked around wearing it. It was somewhat hard to see through, but she never really had a helmet before. 

 

She squinted through the eye slits as she played with another lock on a door. When it did open, she was greeted at the other side by some rolling ball that unfurled into the shape of a man and whacked her on the head with its robotic arm. 

  
  


_ “Good job, you were wearing a helmet.” _ Casavir commented, gauging a nervous chuckle once it was lying in bits on the floor and he had checked for for any injuries.  _ “Safety first.” _ She shrugged, numbing the throbbing headache that she bared. Her quick banter and animated manner was a sign she was nervous in this place. He knew that… he could understand. Theses ruins were strange, a claustrophobic feeling was dense in the air, a sense feeling cut off from the world - and not in a good way. If they were to lose themselves in here, no one would ever find them. Their food supplies were plenty but water and milk were dwindling. He worried about them most, drinking alcohol may become necessary but he needed to keep a clear head if he was to keep her safe. 

 

“Sharis? What are you doing?” He asked when he saw her rubbing charcoal on the wall in the shape of an arrow.

 

“Marking our path. We need to keep track of our directions - I don’t want to get lost down here.” She spoke matter of factly, stuffing the lump of coal in her pocket. He nodded, accepting her excuse as he stepped forward. Suddenly the slate he stepped on was unsteady. He looked down and saw his foot as stepped on a pressure plate. Before his body could react, a loud bang rattled behind him. He jumped forward and turned to see golden bars had fallen between himself and Sharis. Shit.

 

They both jumped to the bars to meet each other, all humour in Sharis’ face was gone. Their hands reached for the flat bars, it's edges as sharp as knives. There was no way they could lift them - not without slicing their hands to bits. 

“What happened?” She asked, pulling off the helmet and dropping it on the floor. 

 

“It's my fault, my lady. I stepped on a pressure plate.” He sighed, clearly annoyed at his lack of vigilance. 

 

“It's OK. Don't worry, we'll fix this. Is there some way to lift these bars? A level perhaps?”  She looked around her while he did the same. There was nothing. They both looked around for a lever, a button, a pulley. Anything! A rasping bark echoing through the through the halls around them, stunted their search. There was a moment of silence, time stood still as they exchanged a look; one of worry and lingering fear.

 

“Cas…” Sharis breathed as he reached for his sword, something catching his attention out of her line of sight. “My lady, hide!” He growled as he drew back his sword ready to attack.

 

“What’s happening?!” She asked. Panic building in her like steam in a kettle. She pressed against the bars to try and see but it wasn’t long till she saw just what was on the other side. Two strange pale creatures emerged from the dark. Wearing weird bone armour, hairless, their face horribly distorted, eyeless, two holes where a nose should be… Falmer. 

 

“Cas!” She cried. Watching him fend them off, but more came. It was like someone had just opened the Riften flood gates. Soon there were so many surrounding the Paladin she could barely see him. She could barely hear him through the sound of clashing blades and shrilling barks that the Falmer called speech. 

 

Fear struck every nerve in his body like a crack of lightning. She withdrew her sword and jutted it through the bars, stabbing an unsuspecting eyeless freak in the back of his neck. Her heart stopped when Casavir came into view. Covered in blood, his red stained face turning to her, his eyes honing in on hers. 

 

There was a moment again… when time stood still… where the world around them vanished and all that remained was the two of them. His eyes looking at her as though it was the first time he had ever seen her face… or the last time he ever would. Her chest tightened, fear flooded her, fear for her Paladins life.  She wanted to run to him, but the cold bars made that impossible. All she could do was watch as a tidal wave of Falmer crashed into him. 

 

“NO! CAS!” She screamed, useless, unable get a strike at the creatures with her magic without risking hurting him. She reached through the bars, risking cutting into her arms - she didn’t care. She needed to help him. “LET HIM GO! CASSIE!!” She felt helpless. Watching them sweep him away from her sight. Lost the sea of eyeless freaks. Her heart pounding in her ears, fear made her heart leap to her throat and adrenaline burnt in her veins. It felt like her dream again, watching them hurt him and she could do nothing to stop them.

 

“GET OFF HIM!” Her own scream deafened her. Fear was beginning to be replaced with pure, unadulterated rage that pumped like fire through her. She started waving her sword around like a madwoman, left, right, up, down. Hoping one of her swings would get a hit on a nearby creature. She could still hear him shouting, telling her to run, to get away. No! This won’t happen - it can’t! She couldn’t lose him! 

 

She managed to hit one, but her blade lodged itself in its armour. It turned and grabbed her arm, attempting to pull her through the bars with such strength she began to worry that it would rip her arm off! She pulled back. The sharp edges of the bars cutting into her sleeves and digging into her skin. The sting of the bars cutting her was nulled by the determination to save her companion. 

 

She reached through with her other arm and dug her thumb into its eye socket, the pop, the squelch and scream of the beast fueled her wrath. She sent a pulse of lightning through it’s head and it let go of her, falling dead on the floor. Then another grabbed her arm, and another. They pulled and pulled but she wouldn’t be going through these bars in one piece. She could see them dragged something along the floor, a trail of blood leading to a limp body being dragged behind them. Casavir. 

 

“NO, NO! CAS! CASSIE!” She screamed till her lungs felt bruised. The eyeless freaks still pulled. The bars began to saw into her arms, feeling like a cheese about to be sliced. She pulled back and brought her feet to her chest, using her legs to free her arms from their vicious grasp. She felt the Thuum in her throat, her attempt to free herself and save him. She eyed the target. Those thieves dragging her precious Paladin away. The dragon’s voice stirred inside her it’s powerful rage burning in her chest ready to be released. 

 

“FUS RO DAH!” She yelled blasting everything in it’s path to fly forward. The release of her arms and her unstable position upon releasing such an immense power pushed her back with such a force she flew in the opposite direction and crashed into the stone wall. She felt the sharp impact of the stone against her back and her head. Completely disoriented and weakened, the room grew blurry and dark as she slipped into unconsciousness. 

 

_ Cas… Cassie…  _

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When she opened her eyes again. The room was eerily silent, the distant hissing of steam through dwemer pipes that continued to work after many years of abandonment was distant from these halls. She slowly opened her weary eyes, the artificial light burning her sight. She winced as pain shot through her body, her head slugged to face forward where she had once been stood. It all came flooding back. The bars, the trap, the ambush, Falmer… Casavir… CASAVIR! 

 

She pulled herself up too quickly and the room spun out of control, pain throbbed through her body and she collapsed on her side, her cheek pressed against the cold hard floor. She waited a few moments before she pulled herself slowly to her knees. Blood stained her clothes, cold and sticky. Her arms were weak as she reached back and winced, sucking sharply through her teeth as she felt the wound at the back of her head. The stone wall behind her was painted with smears of her blood, she could feel her consciousness slipping again. 

 

Her eyes fixed on the bars at the other side of the corridor. She took slow steady breaths, listlessly crawling on her hands and knees to the place she last saw Casavir. Her bag sat in the same place she had left it. Every movement was painful, slow and strenuous. She felt exhausted after just rummaging through the bag for her health potions, sipping on them as their warmth knitted together her wounds. She used what little healing magic she knew to do the rest. Her weak body slowly regaining its strength as she downed a regeneration elixir and a large bottle of stamina. A surge of pure energy pulsing through every vein and muscle as she sat silently regaining her strength. 

All the while the vision of how she last saw him was branded into her recollection. How long had she been out? Where was he now? Was he alive? What were they doing to him?!

 

‘Was he alive?’ That was the question that brought her the most fear. The thought that he was gone, she'd lost him, forever. 

 

Pressing herself against the bars she stared through at the other side. Littered with dead falmer, a blood trail leading down and out of sight. Her Paladin was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sank, tears welled in her eyes and the lump in her throat burst into a sob, she lost him… she was alone… alone and frightened. In a place abandoned by Gods and forgotten by the world itself. 

 

“Cassie.” She sobbed, curling up against the bars and letting the tears fall. She felt something break inside her. Her heart being torn apart. She felt a part of her missing, aching to be whole again. She cried and cried. She didn't care if those freaks came to investigate the noise, let them come. The marks she ground into the walls called to her conscience, begging her to just give up a leave this place. But what was the point? Why would she want to leave? Walking out of here alone was not an option. She wanted it to end. Fuck the Elder Scroll. Fuck Alduin and fuck the world! 

 

What was the point if she couldn't see his pathetic, stoic, beautiful face looking at her in the morning. Trying not to laugh when she was being daft and looking so concerned when she was having one of her ‘lack-of-sleep-crazy’ moments. She pulled her ebony dagger from her boot, Casavir’s hours of hard work. His gift to her. She remembered teasing him about how he broke the sword when this bounced onto the cobbles. Little did she know he had something in store for it. The blood pumping through the veins in her wrists called to her, begging to be severed. Maybe she should? She didn't want to leave this place, not without him. 

 

She pulled off her gloves and stared at the vertical veins, flowing with the liquid of life. The tip of the blade was resting against them, a fraction away from slicing deep. Her hands shook, she closed her eyes ready for it to end. 

 

But the anticipation of the sting, cutting herself was too much, she couldn’t do it… Damn her squeamish disposition! 

 

In frustration she threw her blade away, screaming at her lack of balls to end it. She would go mad in here, she would die down here. She began to cry again, watching the ebony knife bounce and slide through the bars to the other side. 

 

Then she saw it, a glint of silver in the shadows. Casavir’s sword! 

 

She gasped sitting up immediately, staring out at another fragment that showed he existed. She needed to get through, but how? There was no lever, no switch… loosing her patience she began to kick at the bars. But then something popped back into her memory. 

 

_ “Dwemer metal is as soft as cheese when it’s heated. When it’s cold, it almost as hard as Ebony.” _ Eorlund Gray-mane had once told her. With this in mind, she pressed her hands against the bars and took a deep breath. Her hands grew warm, hot; the bars began to heat up, the fire coursing through her body collected in her hands and began to heat the bars. Pulling away slightly to not melt her skin she continued to cast the heat on the bars until they began to glow white hot. She could see them swaying weakly, grabbing the rocks on the floor she used the to push and maneuver the white hot metal out of the way and blasting them with ice to harden them again. 

 

She threw her things through the space and carefully climbed through to the other side. She made it! She was through… but she was too late… _ oh why didn’t I think of that sooner!  _ She looked around the room where her brave Paladin had been fighting for his life. His blade, thick with blood lay on the floor. Her own sword was still stuck in the bone armour of that eyeless freak that lay dead a few feet away.

 

She walked over to his sword, kneeling down and carefully picking it up. This sword was a part of him, a part of who he was - what he had been. Simply holding it in her hand made her feel close to him comforted. But it wasn't enough...Her heart ached for him,  _ he must have been so frightened _ . The memories of their travels came back to her. His connection to this sword. The constant attention to the blade, sharpening it, cleaning it, dueling against its sheath when he taught her how to sword fight. 

 

Her hand reached for the handle, her fingers curling round the worn leather grip. The leather imprint and grooves of his hands holding it steady with every battle were clearly felt under her palms. His large and gentle hands, how they had held hers. When they danced. When she played rock, paper, clippers. When he broke his last apple in half to share it with her, just by pressing his thumb and fingers on either side of it’s core. His face when he saw her amazement of his achieving such a task. 

 

His eyes… those calm and collected blue gems. So full of care and loyalty. His laugh, that soft chuckle, the laugh he tried to keep respectable. His nervous laugh, His laugh that would burst out with a raw unrefined boom that he’d try to temper down when he would catch her staring. Not because she thought it was bad or inappropriate, but because she loved it… she loved him. All of him. What she would give to have him back, to step back in time and stop him before he stepped on that pressure plate - anything… She’d give anything. 

 

Tears fell down her cheeks again as she collapsed down on the floor again, clutching to his sword as if it were him. Holding onto it as a wave of grief crashed into her again. She wanted him back, she wanted to look into his eyes again, to watch him wake in a morning, to see him performing his daily prayers, to walk with him, talk with him, to hold him, to annoyingly ruffle her hand through his thick, black, well combed hair. 

 

The thought of having the last expression she would see on his face was something she could not read, fear, concern… she couldn’t bare it. She didn’t want that to be the last thing she saw on his face. He deserved better! He deserved to grow old, a smile on his face as he passed away, in a bed surrounded by people who were dear to him. It wasn’t fair! Those bastards stole him from her. THEY STOLE HIM! And she wanted him back!

 

Her heartache and sorrow began to transform into something dark, anger began to flow through her veins. Those… those... THINGS had stolen from her - they had no right! He was her Paladin! Her knight! Her strength! Her calm! Her other half! Her Casavir! Rage burned like wildfire through every vein, every muscle in her body. 

 

She shakily pulled herself off the floor and began to wrap his blade with an old burlap cloak she found earlier on. She fastened it to her back, along with her bag and began to scour the area for what she could use. A Falmer bow, arrows. Her knife, her sword… and a hard shelled chest thing… a shield? Fuck it - it’ll do. She grabbed her Dwarven Helmet and shoved it over her head. She wasn’t leaving him down here. If he was alive she’d rescue him. If he was dead…? She wasn’t leaving him to rot in this Gods forsaken place. 

 

“Don’t you worry Cassie. I’m coming.” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


_ “Morning, sleeping beauty.” Sharis smiled sat on the chair eating salted fish and cold snowberry tea. Casavir rubbed his eyes, slowly adjusting to his surrounds. They were in the iceberg. He looked around to find the old man but he was nowhere to be found. “Good morning, my lady. Where did Septimus go?” _

 

_ “To answer nature’s calls.” Sharis simply replied, coming to sit down beside him and handing him a cup as he sat up. She gave another look around the room to make sure they were alone before she spoke again.  _

 

_ “He told me where to find the Elder Scroll. He says there's one hidden in the depths of Blackreach.” _

 

_ “Blackreach?” _

 

_ “Yeh… going by what Septimus is saying, Blackreach is under the old ruins of Alftand. Dwemer ruins.” Casavir listened intently as he sipped on the cups contents. “And… Do know the whereabouts of Alftand?”  _

 

_ She nodded. “It’s in the icy pale. He marked it on our map… but…” She hesitated. He paused, detecting the concern in her voice, and  visible on her face.  “.... but?” He pressed gently.  _

 

_ “Casavir, he wants the Elder Scroll. He wants us to bring it here so he can open the box… I… I just don’t know. The box, I get a strange feeling about it… what’s inside it? Why is he so obsessed with it?” Sharis stared at the box he could see the worry building in her and oozing into her aura.  _

 

_ “My lady, we do not need to be concerned with the box just yet. Let us tackle one problem at a time.” She turned to him and sighed deeply before nodding, understanding his reasoning. “You’re right. Sorry.” _

 

_ “It’s alright. Now, What do you know of Alftand?” _

 

_ “Not allot - just, that it’s an old Dwemer ruin. I hear stories of that place, people going in and never been seen again. When I was at the college, there was a group of adventurers, archaeologists, treasure hunters staying at the Frozen hearth. They were passing through on their way to investigate Alftand. They should have returned after a month… but they never did. Some people who travel through the mountain pass have said they see strange creatures lurking around there at night. They say they’re Falmer - the ancient snow elves that were tricked by the Dwemer folk long ago and were turned into monstrous slaves.” _

 

_ “I  recall reading about them once. Have you ever seen a Falmer?” _

 

_ “No. But Bishop…” She paused. Her eyes grew dark as a nostalgic expression appeared on her features. Casavir remained silent, patiently waiting for her to continue. It had been weeks, a month, since Bishop had left their party. Even though he couldn't stand Bishop most of the time, he would admit that he strangely felt a mournful feeling cast over him. _

 

_ “Bishop did though. He told me about a time he slipped into cave to evade a thunder storm, somewhere to crash for the night. He said when he was in there he could feel himself being watched. So he investigated - only to discover he had stepped into a nest of some sort. He said they look like something that would crawl out of - excuse the term - ‘crawl out of molag bal’s ass crack’. They’re bony, hunched backed, hairless, no eyes and are dependent of their hearing.” _

 

_ “Trust Bishop to make a marvelous euphemism to describe the Falmer.” Casavir grimaced, taking a sip from the cup as he shook his head.  “He said they’re like the stuff of nightmares.” Sharis added. Her eyes were still dark, no longer with mourning, but with a uncertainty of what they could meet when they went into those ruins. Casavir put his cup down and reach out for her, placing his hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes met his - wide and unguarded.  _

 

_ “My lady… please do not worry. I will not let any hard come to you. I WILL protect you. You have my word.” She smiled thoughtfully, gracing him with one of her wonderful smiles that warmed his heart. “I know… Thank you. And I shall protect you.”  _

 

_ “Thank you, my lady. You are most kind.” He chuckled.  _

 

“Sharis…” Her name escaped her lips as he felt her slip from his hands. Pain filled him and the cold floor sent shivers up his body. He opened his eyes, slowly looking around the dark room.  The smell of damp earth and putrid flesh was thick in the air. “Sharis?” He breathed, pulling himself to sit up, looking around him at the strange unfamiliar surroundings. He looked around, a corpse rotting in the corner. It’s eyeless sockets staring at him made his heart leapt to his throat. Words were written in blood on the wall. ‘I’m sorry’ It spelled out.  It wasn’t Sharis, calmed himself. He exhaled deeply, looking around some more to catch his bearings. 

 

He was in a cage of some sort. Three stone walls and a set of dwemer metal gates ahead of him. Blood ran along the edges of the razored bars close by the body. Obviously this poor soul had taken their life. He held his head as a headache thumped like a drum in his skull, pain was present throughout his body.

 

He had no recollection of how he got here… he remembered the pressure plate, the Falmer jumping from the shadows, being surrounded and tackled to the ground. Sharis’ face of horror as she watched on from the other side…. SHARIS! OH GOOD GODS! Where was she?! She was safe on the other side but what if they got to her too?! He healed himself with a short, intense burst of restoration magic, it’s soothing warmth fighting away the remnants of a paralysis spell. Scratching and throaty barks and hisses made him peer through the bars to the other side. 

 

The only source of light was the fire burning in the corner of the room, the smell of meat being cooked, there was no cattle or livestock around, so judging by the dismembered bodies that were laid out on the stone tables he quickly realised what they were eating. He felt sick - yet relieved when he saw that the faces of the corpses on the other side looked nothing like Sharis. That still wasn’t enough… where was she? Is she alright?  _ I have to find her. _

 

There were falmer sat around chewing on bones and meat, one sat by the fire it’s eyeless face stared into the flames. These creatures were vile abominations - truly something that was from the darkest depths of nightmares. 

 

_ I need to get out of here, _ He thought, he could see his armour across the room, tossed aside under the stone table. Another stone table close to the bars held a small iron knife sat on the edge. He might be able to reach it… he just needed something long enough. A lightbulb went off in his head as he slowly turned to the corpse in the corner. He could tell they used to be a very tall individual, a high elf perhaps? 

 

He carefully crawled over to the other side, eyeing the corpse’s limbs… arm or leg.  _ Oh Arkay, forgive me _ . He decided on the arm, the flesh had mostly rotted away and all he needed to do was dislocate it or break it off. He took a deep breath and braced himself as he grabbed it’s upper arm firmly. With a quick sharp tug, he popped the bone from its socket and roughly pulled the arm free from the body. 

 

“Thank you.” He said once he cleared away from the corpse and made his way to the bars. Carefully sliding the bone through the bars he nudged at the knife that was hanging dangerously off the edge of the table. His hand ready to catch it before he flicked it off the table and made its descent to the floor. 

 

It worked. The Falmer appeared completely unaware of his escape plan, so far. The bars were held together by some kind of rope, leather? He didn’t want to know how they made leather down here. He carefully began to cut at the leather until it broke free. If he was careful, he could sneak past them and retrieve his armour before they discovered he had escaped.   _ I’m coming Sharis. Please be safe _ . The bindings holding the gates together were cut and now lay on the floor. 

 

He steadied his breathing before he carefully pushed at the gates, they sounded a soft creak, making all the Falmer in the room stand alert with their ears twitching. He froze…wagering the odds of him being successful in fending them off. No armour, his only weapon a small iron dagger and a corpse's arm… not good. Luckily, they soon disregarded the sound and carried on with what they had been doing. Eating, staring into the fire - he didn’t want to know what that wretch was grunting heavily for in the hut to his left. 

 

The gap he had made was enough room for him to squeeze through. To be safe, he tested the bars again before pushing them little by little - they didn't make a sound. He crouched down low, thinking twice with every step he took. He was almost there, he’d past three and they hadn’t suspected a thing. Their attention solely drawn to the carcass of a poor woman. The tension in the air was as tight as a bowstring, one wrong step, and this could end badly. 

 

He sounded a silent victory in his head when he made it. His hand ready to pick up his armour. He slowly picked up his undercoat and placed under his arm as he reached for his metal chest piece. He paused. A familiar sound echoed through the winding tunnels and into the room. 

 

“FUS RO DAH!” Its echo shook the air in the room. He felt his spirits lift upon the sound… Sharis… she was alive!… She was in trouble!  _ Oh Gods! _ His eyes snapped at the Falmer who now rose to their feet and began to reach for their weapons, heading towards the direction of the sound. No! He couldn’t let them come for her. 

 

In quick impetuous thinking, he grabbed his chest plate and threw it over his body. Banging on it like a metal drum.

 

“Hey! Over here, you devils!” He barked. He reached for his boot and swung it hard into the nearest Falmer who came charging. He snapped, saw red… these monsters didn’t know what hit them when Casavir geared into berserk-mode. He was an unstoppable force, fueled solely on the need to protect Sharis. These beasts would not leave this room alive. He would follow the Thuum and kill any Falmer who tried to stop him. He would find her.

 

“Hold on, Sharis… I’m coming.” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Her stomach groaned painfully, her mouth dry as the Alik’r desert. She slumped against the wall, sipping on the last bit of mead she had. She’d been these halls for hours now, these freaks seemed to jump out at her with every turn she took. Her feet were sore and her body begged for rest. But her heart, her soul… pined for her blue eyed knight. She would not rest, not until she held him in her arms again. Dead or alive - she would be reunited with him. But that was easier said than done…

 

Now giving herself a few moments to catch her breath, leant against the wall, her energy drained, exhausted, hungry, angry, alone… frightened. She stared at the Falmer around her, her fresh kills of the hour… their bodies now joining the bones of their victims. 

 

They couldn’t see her, but they could hear her and their sense of smell was strangely intact (given the fact that they had no noses). She realised that using the Bow she picked from a Falmer corpse was her best line of defense, leaving her magicka to use her muffle spell and to heal herself on occasions. She reeked of them, their blood stuck to her skin and her clothes, their stench would have made her throw up - if she had something on her stomach to bring up. 

 

She needed to keep moving, her Thuum was bound to have attracted the attention of those monsters, they would be here soon. But her body wouldn’t move - she was too tired. Her own body at war as it fought to stay awake, to keep going. The dark voice in the depths of her mind telling her to give up, it was too late. He’s dead. She would never find him. She tried again to get up but the weight of her loot was too great now. 

 

“Akatosh, Arkay, Stendarr, Mara… anyone? Gods, please help me?” She stared at the ancient walls around her. The persistent pain inside her chest adding weight to her weak state. She had been wandering these halls for such a long time. Adapting herself to Bishop’s skills and habits to get through this labyrinth of Hell.  But now she was spent.

 

Her bloodthirst for revenge and the tenacious need to see her Paladin again had brought her this far. But now she was weighed down by the voices in her mind. 

 

_ I just need a minute… just a few moments to regain myself. _

 

_ It's over, Sharis. _

 

_ No!... I just need to catch my breath. _

 

_ What's the point? He's gone! You’ll never find him. You should have taken the chance to leave when you could… Now, you’ll die down here… _

 

_ It’s all my fault…  _

 

She felt numb… overwhelmed by so much emotion that her body just switched off. It really was over. She thought back to her times with Casavir. The ball: the enchanting music, the gowns, the food! She could almost taste that apple pie. The waltz; the dance she did not know, and the blue eyed, handsome man that was so patient with her. His rich and soothing voice that send sweet chills through her. 

 

Tears welled in her eyes again, she didn't have the strength to contain them anymore. They fell down her cheeks like a waterfall as she began to silently sob. Finally giving into the idea that this was it. End of the line. She had used up all her potions, potions of stamina, magicka and health were now nothing but annoying tinkering empty bottles in the bottom of her bag. Her ingredients were no more, after she had used them as emergency aid. 

 

She could hear scratching on the walls, the sound of shuffling feet on the floor drawing closer. Someone was coming, Falmer. This was it… they were coming for her - game over. She didn't want to die, not here, not in this Gods forsaken place! Not where she was alone, her dear Casavir left to rot alone. She peeled her back from the wall, staring at her numb legs that refused to move.  _ Come on! Move!  _ She whined. The sounds were drawing closer, her mind was battling with itself to keep going, but her body had already given up. 

 

_ FINE… I'm not going down without a fight! _ She thought. Anger grew inside her. Angry at the idea she was going to die down here. Angry she would never see the sun, see the snow again. Angry at her body for giving up so easily. Angry she was alone. Angry that she had failed, the quest, the world, failed to save her Casavir. He was dead because of her. She had no one to blame but herself. She deserved this end… but she was never one to just sit back and take it.  

 

She eyed the entrance where the sound was coming from. Her hand gripping the dwemer sphere, Septimus has given her. Her remaining strength congregating and building up in her arm, like the bubbles behind the cork of the very exquisite wine she tasted at the ball. 

 

She thought of a happy place, the ball - no. Casavir. Her blue eyed knight, their journey, his smile, his solidity, his calm. She felt it embrace her like how his arms had done. She remembered his face, his calm and polite attitude. The times she would be so daft and he would accept it, never berate or judge her. 

 

The times she would get angry or worried, and she would snap at him. How he would just sit there and take it, his beautiful blue eyes held no resentment or disdain - just loyalty… and tender warmth… She never deserved him, to have him at her side was the greatest gift she could ever ask for. 

 

She had prayed to the Gods to help her - like she had done so many times before. Ever since she had discovered she was Dovahkiin. She had stayed with the Greybeards for weeks, learning all she could about this terrible gift. She had prayed so hard that night at Dragon's bridge; when she sat by the stream crying, hiding from Bishop and his venomous tongue. She prayed for their help, for them to bring her the strength to save her. The strength to do what needed to be done. Then… She stepped into Solitude… and there he was… Her strength. 

 

How he had been so polite and kind. Offering to carry her things while she went back and forth to shops and market stalls. It was strange, from the very beginning - she never felt uncomfortable with him. She had bombarded him with questions as he walked with her round the market, offering to pay for her purchases, but she had refused. Then Bishop came skulking out of the dark. She cared for Bishop - GREATLY! But she never felt safe, secure with him. 

 

Where was he now? What was he doing? WHO was he doing? She missed that rough tongued Ranger… in a way… 

 

She looked at the silver wolf head etched into the band around her finger. 

 

_ “He loves you. You know? He’s too proud to say it, but he does.” _

_ “No. Bishop. He’s a Paladin.” _

_ “He’s a man, and every man has a heart –  and you have his.” _

 

Those blue calm pools that seemed to guard so much came to her again. 

 

_ For my Cassie…  _ She thought. _ Until we meet again, my brave knight.  _ A figure scurried from the shadows before her.  _ Here it comes!  _

 

She brought her arm back and threw the sphere at top speed, watching it fly through the air and strike, right in it's ugly face. It landed on its back with a loud clatter. She smirked wickedly, proud of herself for having such a good arm. She watched it squirm on the floor slowly. It's deep rich voice groaned. It’s steel armour caught the light… steel armour?

 

… Oh shit. She stared with wide eyes, not sure whether this was some trick. Her target sat up slowly, showing itself in the light of the Dwemer lamps. Strange steel attire, raven black hair, strong kissable cheekbones…? Casavir!

 

Her heart fluttered with joy, a smile brimmed on her face. “Casavir!” She exclaimed, her body feeling fully recharged as she scrambled to his side. She suddenly felt so conflicted with emotions, one part of her was so relieved and overjoyed to see him; while the other half suddenly reminded her that she had just thrown a chunk of metal at his head. He looked at her briefly as he held one side of his face.

  
  


“It’s good to see you too, my lady” He remarked with a hint of sarcasm. Blood streamed from his nose as he cupped it.

 

“I’m so sorry! I didn't know it was you! Are you ok?” She replied, helping him sit up. He nodded. “I think you may have broken my nose.”

 

“I'm really sorry! Lemme see.” 

 

“It's ok, my lady. It shan’t take a moment.” He held his hand up to block her frantic attempts. She sat impatiently beside him watching him as he quickly realigned his nose and healed it. It was a two-minute job. The moment he turned to look at her, her trembling lips pulled themselves into a smile, her teeth sparkled as she threw herself against him. 

  
  


“I was so worried.” She croaked, nestling herself into him. Her cheeks creating friction as she rubbed it against his neck. He sighed and held her against him. “So was I… For you, I mean.” Her giggle was heavenly, a sound he would never tire of hearing. They remained glued to each other for a while, simply enjoying each others tight embrace as they had in the Iceberg. Her aspiration to find him again was not for nothing. She cooed gaily as she felt the warmth of his skin against her face. Sharis was the first to move, her nose wrinkled as she fashioned a coy yet amusing grin. “You ssstink.” She giggled. 

  
  


“I do apologize, my lady. But in my defense, I was trapped in a cell… and the Falmer? Their habitat does harbor a very pungent smell.” He excused himself, his cheeks turning pink. “And furthermore… I’m afraid you have no room to complain.” She was struggling whether to be offended at that last comment, but she blew it off and giggled, reaching up for his face, forgetting herself in the moment and cupped his cheeks. Her eyes brimmed with happiness, her radiant smile filled him with a surreal bliss. The soft pads of her fingers massaging his cheeks made him all warm.  

She leant up and planted a rough peck on his forehead before throwing herself against him again. 

  
  


“I missed you.” She whispered. His heart swelled, overwhelmed by the rapturing emotions that fired up within him. She kissed me…?  His cheeks burnt red, why did this woman make him feel this way? To feel whole when she was by his side, empty when she was not. To bring warmth and happiness to him every time he saw her. 

  
  


It frightened him how easily his heart had opened to her, willing to give her everything, not just his skill in battle and his sword in the fray. No, he had given her his mind, his thoughts, shared stories, shared experiences that he never thought he would. She had given him the same in return - maybe even more. The way she looked into his eyes. They were always warm and caring, but there was something else there… it had been there for a while now, growing by the day. It lured him closer and closer until he felt its arms reach for him. But the moment he felt its fingers curl around his being, he retreated - like a part of him knew what it was he was fleeing from.

  
  


“Oh! I got your sword!” She pulled away, much to the disheartening of the Paladin who gently released her. She proceeded to pull at the bindings around her waist that she had used to hold the sword to her back before she gave it to him. Her eyes full of joy to see it reunited with it’s rightful owner. He nodded thankfully as he began to stand, sliding it back into it’s sheath and attaching it to his back. 

  
  


They both jumped when a rasping bark echoed in the far distance. They were coming, this time it was them. 

“We need to move.” Sharis stated, gripping his hand tightly. He nodded, his fingers curling around hers as she hauled him behind her and darted through the ancient Dwemer corridors. 

  
  


They must have been going in circles. She had seen that same stupid, smug-looking face sculpture with the nose missing six times now! The scratching barks that echoed through the corridors tormented them, more were coming. Her heart pounded rapidly with fright as she gripped his hand tighter, his fingers flexed with hers as the sound drew in closer. She knew they were unstoppable together, but she was tired, her body was still weak and their scurrying through these halls wasn’t helping. But she couldn't bring herself to think that they would take him away from her again. 

  
  


“This way.” Casavir suggested as he pulled them on in another direction. Grabbing a strange looking falmer sword abandoned on the floor before running through a set of doors. He turned and shut the doors behind them, sliding the sword through the handle to held it shut. He snapped his eyes over to Sharis, his eyes looked more enthralled with determination than worry. His calmness in such a terrifying time was the only thing stopping her from breaking. He looked around, mapping out the surroundings as he thought through his next steps. The corridors continued on before them, and the barking rasps of the Falmer communicating with one another grew louder behind the barricaded door. 

  
  


“Stay close, my lady” He said, his voice calm but held a firm authoritative tone. She nodded. "Likewise."

  
  


Carefully they ventured down the corridors. The loose fastenings of his armour clinked and clattered, which made being discreet almost impossible. 

“When we have time to stop. I’m teaching you the ‘muffle’ spell.” She commented. Listening to his amused chuckle was soothing as worry attempted to flood her. “That would benefit me greatly. Thank you.” 

  
  


They came to what looked like a hall, maybe even an old market place for the Dwemer culture. Of course, it was riddled with Falmer. They fought their way through the hordes, metal mechanical beings and hard shelled creatures, chaurus, Casavir said they were called. They managed to push past them, but when a giant Centurion came to life and decided to give chase; they agreed it was best to run and hopefully lose them. They barged through the doors, opening up into a enormous cavern, the fresh dense air greeted them as they ran. They didn’t know where they were running, and they didn’t have time to take in where they were. All they knew, was the fact that they had ran out of path. 

  
  


“Damn it!” Casavir growled, finally unsheathing his sword from his back and pulling Sharis behind him. They were getting close, the Falmers’ arrows pinged off the stone platform at their feet. The Centurion was thankfully taking down many of their oppositions. She knew they couldn’t fight them all, they were exhausted, all that running and wrangling was showing it’s strain on the beads of sweat glistening on her Paladins skin. She quickly surveyed the surrounding, there was no way they could leap off this platform to another, below them was water. It looked pretty deep… she hoped it was deep because if it wasn’t, then it would completely blow up the light bulb that just went off in her head. 

  
  


“We need to jump!” She shouted gripping Casavir’s arm and pointing down to the water below. Casavir’s eyes grew wide and his thick brows slowly rose to his hairline as he looked down at the drop, the bottom was filled with a pale blue glow of the water below. 

  
  


“We can’t, my lady… what if-”

  
  


“We have to try!” She tugged at his arm. He looked at her, then back at the water, then back to the approaching hostiles. The falmer were closing in on them. The Centurion coming to their right. They had no choice and no other way, no matter how much he would wish to fight his way out. He knew it was their only chance.

  
  


Time to see just how buoyant this armour is. He growled. Nodding firmly as he sheathed his sword quickly. He grabbed Sharis’ outstretched hand and pulled her against him, holding her firm around her waist. 

  
  


“Best foot forward.” Sharis smiled nervous, both staring at their boots that poked off the edge. "One… two… JUMP!" 

  
  
  
  



	27. Memory lane

 

_ Please be deep, please be deep, please be deep.  _

 

His heart seemed to stop beating as the surroundings flew by, the water below grew closer and closer as they plummeting down.  Sharis cried out, bracing for impact, they both took a deep breath before the welling anticipation of landing disappeared with a loud splash exploded around them. 

The cold water that engulfed them was refreshing, but their bodies still writhed with adrenaline, Casavir’s armour sank him to the bottom, the pads of his boots hit the rocks at the water's bed. He opened his eyes and there was nothing to see but blur, a pale blue glow above him. He pushed Sharis towards the surface and watched for a moment as she began to swim up. 

 

They made it! Relief washed over him but it was short lived when he pushed off and found himself brought to an abrupt halt. 

 

_ What th-?  _ He tried again, nothing. Panic began to seep into him as he realised he was losing air. He reached down to feel what was holding him to the bottom. Feeling old pipes and rubble - his foot lodged between them. His lungs began to tighten in his chest as his body demanded air, his hands frantically reaching for ways to free his foot. 

Just then, another pair of hands joined the struggle. He glanced just to see a figure that resembled Sharis, her hair slowly floating like smoke in the soft current. He couldn't make out her face, it was too dark. She was reaching down to help him. No, she needed to get to safety. He tried to grab her ushering her to swim up but she was defiant. 

 

His chest grew tighter and tighter, as he began to double his efforts. Panic made his actions quick and desperate, survival instincts kicked in as he yanked and pulled, but to no avail. 

Hands grabbed either side of his face firmly, his eyes looked to her misty silhouette. Her hands cupped his face, bringing her thumbs to press either side of his nose. The silhouette drew closer and touched him. Something soft yet forceful met his mouth, a blast a fresh air flew into his body. He jerked away suddenly - the overload of oxygen forced his breath out of him. 

 

_W-what!? Sharis…?!_ Before he could come to terms with what was going on. The touch returned. Soft yet urgent, his gaping eyes staring at the figure, Sharis. Her face pressed up against him. Her life essence filling his lungs. He wanted to protest, but his bodies urgent need to survive accepted the air. 

 

Was this all planned? Had she done this, knowing he would get stuck and she would be able to take advantage? 

 

No. How could she possibly have known this would happen? She most likely was feeling guilty for this happening. That was her nature, she was impulsive, act now think later, she always felt terrible if someone was hurt because of her actions, always punishing herself and doing whatever it took to make things right. This was it, she was mending her self proclaimed blunder. 

He did not know how water breathing spells worked. Perhaps it was the oxygen she was breathing into him; the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, the shock of being so close or the knowing of having her against him. But he felt light headed, like floating with the clouds. He felt so weak but at the same time he felt so strong. He was not innocent to intimate advances. He hadn't always been a Paladin. But this was not a kiss, this was more… more intimate, more raw, intense. This was preserving his life, saving him from this watery grave. Yet he couldn't push aside the euphoric sensation her kiss of life wielded.

She was literally his life source. Without her, he would die! 

She was gifting him with life, risking her own for the sake of his. He stopped fighting her advances, slowly, closing his eyes. Savouring this sacred moment. Having her so close… dear God's. Was this a blessing? Or a challenge…? His body reacted in a very strange way. His manhood was certainly enjoying this awkwardly arousing moment as it sprang to life. Her body began to drift, her feet taking the lead as she began to float up to the surface. She wriggled and kicked her legs to stay down, but it was a failed effort. It felt like something was pulling her away from him. Like life had blessed him one moment to bathe in it’s bliss only to rip her away so soon.

Whether it was the exchange of breath that was taking over or the fear of drowning. He was shocked at his own boldness as he reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him.    
  


She moaned, the soft vibration against his lips hooked him in further. He forgot he was on the verge of drowning, his whole being craving her as he held her gently. He felt her lips softened, once demanding they were more tender, as if wanting to be there. His body moved on his own gripping her waist firmly. Another moan vibrated into him and he could not resist but to answer the call. His face pressed into her, lips moulding to form an airtight lock against hers.  They were fixed, sharing the bountiful amounts of air her waterbreathing spell gifted her.  

 

She gave him one last taste of her lips before she drew back, coming to face him for a brief moment. 

His eyes opened from the loss of the sensation, his body pined for her again. Her hands now pulling at his, he reluctantly loosened his grip on her and she edged away. She darted down to continue working on his trapped foot. With the new air in his lungs and the adrenaline in his blood he worked fast. Abandoning the idea of pulling his boot free and worked on the buckles to his greaves.    
  


SUCCESS! His foot slipped out and after pushing her up first, he kicked himself off towards the pale blue above. Bursting from the surface, he filled his lungs with the cold air. Wide eyed and struggling to fight against the weight of his armoured suit. He looked over to Sharis who was looking around them and then came to meet his gaze. 

 

He made it - they made it.

 

“You ok?” She panted. He could do nothing but nod. Sharis returned the gesture and began to swim to the shore where her supplies sat on some Dwemer steps. She kept looking back to make sure he was managing to swim in his armour. Fatigue hit them both hard as they finally reached land. They crawled up the small stretch of steps before collapsing on their backs, side by side, staring at the centurion that was lurking on the platform where they had once stood. 

 

“You think… he can see us?” Sharis asked. The way it was lurking around the platform, like it was searching for them. Just how well could that thing see? How did it see? Was it a detect life enchantment? Or did that thing actually have eyes that it could use? If so... where did it get those eyes?!

 

“... I do not know… but… I pray, that it has lost us.” He heaved through weighted breaths. They shared a few minutes silence, taking this time to stare up at the strange but beautiful world around them. 

 

 

The black canvas above them glittered with millions, no, billions of flecks of what looked like stars. Mushrooms shone like lanterns with shades of blue and violet, lighting up the foreign land. They were as tall as trees ranged from sizes from the size of mice to the size of the tallest fern to grow in Falkreath hold. Long tentacle vines draped from them and even from the roof of the cave. No wind; yet they were moving freely and gracefully to and fro.  The air was thick with moisture, spores floated like morning mist through the thick damp air. 

 

Sharis was the first to peel herself from the stone floor, sitting up and pulling her weighted sodden hair back into a ponytail, squeezing some of the water out. Casavir pulled himself up shortly after, staring at the water where he left his boot. His mind played over and over of what happened down their. His life dwindling away as so did the air in his lungs. He almost drowned… he would have drowned… But, Sharis… Her small and dainty hands gripping his face with such urgency, and the feel of her mouth against his; breathing life into him. He tasted her, the softness and, heavenly flavour of his lady. It wasn’t how he dreamt of kissing her. How he would ever be blessed to rest his lips upon hers, he fell into a trance like state for a few moments as he thought about the moment they had shared. His body growing a need for more, to have her again. Only more passion, more movement, more taste, more touch… Oh Mara - please. Forgive me? 

 

“I’ll get your boot. Stay here.” Sharis said as she cast another ray of pale crystal glow that engulfed her and dissipated into a thin layer over her body that sank into her skin. 

 

“My lady…?” He reached out for her, his hand gripped firmly around hers. When she turned round to him… she looked different. Her eyes were just as big and beautiful, but the vibrant emerald that glittered gold had spanned out til the whites of her eyes were no more, their emerald and gold shine vibrantly with a metallic sheen. Her pupils were enormous, dilated. She blinked, staring blankly at him. One set of lids blinked vertically, and the other set… blinked horizontally. He almost forgot what he was going to say upon seeing her spell turning her more like a fish than a human. He quickly grasped what he was going to say before it slipped to the back of his mind. “Thank you.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. 

 

She nodded warmly. “Keep an eye out for Falmer.” She said releasing her webbed hand from his as she dove back into the water’s depths. He looked around him again, shivering slightly as the chill in the eternal midnight lands wielded its chilly atmosphere. He waited, but worry ate at him, worrying what monsters lurked in those waters.  _ What if she was attacked? No, don’t be silly!  _ He thought. 

  
  


After the moment flooded him. He sighed relief when he saw her head bob up from the glowing blue water. 

 

“There you go.” She emptied his boot before handing it to him. His eyes stared worryingly when he finally caught a glimpse of her webbed fingers. His eyes zipped from her hand to her large fish like eyes.

 

“Don’t worry, it’s part of the spell. It goes with time.” She explained, knowing exactly what question was on his mind. He nodded slowly and slopped his foot into his wet boot. “We need to find somewhere to hang low for a while. Somewhere to dry off and rest.” She said. Looking around at the strange foreign world they had fallen into. 

 

He nodded bringing himself to his feet, squelching up the steps. Every sound they made seemed to echo in this place. Worrying about the inhabitants of this land was dampening their admiration for it's beauty. But shelter and safety was their key target right now. They were lucky when Casavir noticed a set of doors so close to the stairs they climbed. With an arrow nocked and his sword at the ready; they scoured the halls. They lead to nowhere. No traps, no falmer… just a corridor that lapped itself.  

  
  
  


“Ok, I think this place will do.” Sharis sighed with relief. Finally! Somewhere they can rest, if only for a few hours. They settled in the bed quarters, where beds circled a Dwarven lamp that was situated in the centre of the room. 

They barricaded the doors to their exit. This place was perfect to lay low for a while. If anything came knocking, they could manoeuvre their way round and use the repeating corridor to their advantage. Their escape would be to jump from the ledge that faced directly to their exit. Too tricky to climb, but a jump and roll on landing was possible. 

They scoured the area for anything to use. An old tattered Dwemer cloak, riddled with holes but it would suffice. A Dwarven shield, some old portions that may or may not be still usable and a dwarven dagger.

 

“Either the shield... or this plate…?” Sharis offered the Paladin, holding up the small plate she just picked off the floor. His cheeks deepened a dark red as he looked at her completely bewildered. He began to look around for something - anything that he could wear until his clothes were dry. He had lost his satchel, all he had were the sopping clothes that were clinging to his skin. He began to eye his plate mail he had just pulled off and was now sitting by one of the stone beds.  

 

“I’m just teasing Cas. Here. I'll tear some of the cloak off. I don't need it all!” 

 

“Wha- no.” too late. A loud tear ripped through the air and she tore the cloak in half and handed him a piece. More than enough to wrap around his waist to hide his unmentionables. “Th-thank you.” he bowed his head. 

 

“No worries. Now, turn around, and no peeking.” 

 

“I would…” He began to defend himself from her suggestion, but when he saw those green gems shine playfully, he knew she was still toying with him. He nodded and slowly turned to face the wall. “Am I… am I safe to change into this too?” 

 

“Yep. Let me know when you're done.”

 

“... Yes, my lady.” His voice dried up as silence fell upon them. She began to strip down, the chill of the air made her shiver. But the warmth on her back, emitted from the Dwarven light in the centre of the room was comforting. 

 

The air between them was silent, except for the occasional unbuckle and flop of wet clothing hitting the stone beds. She was trying so hard not to think of what stood behind her. Casavir, stripping down to his skin… Mara be praised! She was itching to turn and see his fine sculpted shape unburdened of armour and fabric alike. 

 

But she was stripping down too! She felt so vulnerable, the hairs on her goose bumped skin stood on end, the proprioception stirring her imagination of his hands reaching for her, his hot skin melting against hers. His strong, gentle touch caressing her erogenous parts. She licked her dry lips and swallowed hard; 

pushing the lustful thoughts away and quickly wrapping the tattered rag of a cloak around her torso. 

 

The thud of heavy fabric hitting stone behind her was making her heart race. Her lustful needs were dancing and whirling inside, stirring her insides up into a disoriented mess. She shook her head again, staring at the walls as she mapped out each precise groove of the carved stone. She didn't know what had come over her, but she suddenly was brimming with mischievous energy.

 

“Whit woo” she whistled. “Very nice.”

 

“Wha…?!” She heard Casavir scrambling about behind her. 

 

“The stone work. The Dwemer were a very skilled race don't you think?” She held in a giggle which seeped into her voice. She could only imagine how he must have darted to safety, and the livid expression on his handsome face. 

 

“Oh…  y-yes…” he sighed, clearing his throat before he continued. “They are legendary for their architecture. I must admit, it is most impressive, yet sad that it has been abandoned for so long.” 

 

“I agree. I'm done, by the way. Let me know when you're ready.” she commented, breathing in deep to calm herself. 

 

“Yes, my lady. I am finished too.” His voice was thick with a timid shyness which only made her heart begin to race again. They turned to face one another slowly. Where Casavir averted his eyes strictly to the floor. Sharis brazenly stared at the Paladin before her, her jaw fell slack. His brawn figure was delicious, every inch of his battle hardened body was well toned and designed specifically to unwittingly lure her dubious thought to wander. The mere sight of it made her mouth dry, her fingers tingled with the curiosity of how the skin on his flat stomach felt against them. Her chest rose and fell as it struggled to calm it’s ragged breaths. 

 

She only managed to look away when the sound of Casavir clearing his throat ripped her back to the normality of the situation. He reached down for the large Dwarven shield and proceeded to sit down on the foot of the bed opposite her. The shield sat between his legs and blocking her view of his torso. She managed to give him a smile before sitting herself down on the bed to her right and gathered her wet hair to fall along one shoulder as she pretended to plait it. Hiding her bright red cheeks from him. 

  
  


“Well. At least we don’t stink anymore.” Sharis sparked up a conversation, daring to stem the silence between them. Casavir breathed a apprehensive chuckle, making no effort to break the tense atmosphere. Thanks. They sat silently for quite a while, Sharis was now staring at the rim of her bottle, at least they knew there was water down here… but drinkable? Perhaps…?

 

“So! Our food supplies have gone.” She stated. “I doubt we will find anything to eat down here. Unless the Falmer have been stealing sheep.”

 

“No. They don't eat sheep or cows. When I was in the cell, I saw human remains. I believe we are their food source.” Casavir replied.

 

“Ah, well… that makes me feel much better.” She remarked. Putting down her bottle and falling back on the stone bed. She sighed, watching the ribbons of harsh light casting upon the walls. 

  
  


“My lady? Do you think there could be animals down here? Fish?... Bats?” Clams? Ugh those slimy lumps of meat. He hated those things, but he certainly wouldn't turn one down if he was offered one right now. 

 

“I didn't see any when I was fishing out your boot. But perhaps I missed them.” she replied, glancing over at the Paladin on the other side of the room. He hadn't looked up at her once, she wasn't sure if he was a little unnerved by his exposure, or the time here was giving him a chance to reflect on what she had done to save him from drowning. She hadn't really thought it through, she just leapt into action to save him. What alternative did she have? She didn't know his armour was going to get stuck! 

  
  


By the Gods, she could still feel his mouth against her. The course stiff hairs on his shaved face. The taste of his life essence filling her lungs. He tasted so sweet, yet slightly metalic from the bust lip he sustained. But… she kissed him… kinda… well. It wasn't really a kiss, or was it…? What would define a kiss? 

 

A moment where time ceased to exist, a nerve exploding, heart racing moment where all the colours of the universe burst to life. The rush of sensation that shook her to her core... That was definitely present. His reaction to it at first was to be expected, to push her away. But afterwards… he was compliant. Enjoying it? His face pressed into hers, his grip around her waist was seared into her skin, his mouth accepting her. She had moaned out of shock when she felt him pulling her down to stabilise her. But his body responded to it in a way she would have never expected, and her body had relished in the exhilarating rush.  

 

She had cursed herself now. She had tasted the forbidden fruit, it's sweet yet tangy taste was scorched into her memory. Her body purred with gentle heat that rose inside her, caressing her softly as it coaxed her to claim more. 

 

_ It wasn't a damn kiss. It was to save his life.  _

 

_ But I wanted it to be a kiss.  _

 

_ No! Stop it.  _

 

She pushed her illicit little devil away and focused. He was sewing his trousers back together where they had torn on the knee. Hiding himself behind the Dwarven shield he’d balance between his knees. 

  
  


“Hey… Casavir?”

 

“Yes, my lady?” He tilted his head slightly up to acknowledge her, yet his eyes remained restricted from her. 

 

“I…emm… I. I'm sorry. For… you know… the underwater thing.” She pulled her hair to the side again and squeezed what was left of the water out of her hair. He shook his head, quick to respond. 

 

“My lady, you are most kind and sweet to offer an apology. But I cannot accept it.” 

  
  


What?  She gulped hard, the millisecond it took him to continue felt like an hour. Oh shit, I shamed him! Damn it!  That's it, he's never forgiving me for that. Divines sake! Why am I such a-

  
  


“You saved my life, my lady. I would have, without a doubt, perished in those waters. I cannot accept your apology, because it is not needed. However. I, on the other hand, cannot express my gratitude enough, for what you have done for me. I understand that I seem distant. I assure you, that is because of our current situation and not the event that unfolded outside these walls.” 

 

She sighed, somewhat relieved. “I must say, I’m glad. I was beginning to worry.” She giggled. Staring back down into the bottle before sitting up and reaching for it again. 

  
  


“Do you…?” She Paused.

 

“Do I what? My lady?” 

 

“No, sorry. It’s silly.”

 

“Go on. I promise, I shall not laughed.” Casavir replied. His voice seemed caress the sound waves in the room as they made their way to her. His deep warm voice was comforting and caring. She shrugged. “Do you ever wish you could go back. Relive your childhood?”

 

“No.” He replied immediately.

 

“Really? Why? Not even just a moment? Relive a memory…?” He was about to respond, but his replied fizzled out on the last part. He fell silent, staring at the thread yarn in his hand as he measured out the correct length. When he didn’t respond, she was ready to drop the conversation. But then he spoke. 

 

“There is, one, actually.” He murmured. His eyes grew yearnful as they seemed to be looking at something that only he could image. “If I could relived one childhood memory. It would be the days I spent with my mother.” he admitted, his voice low. The tone in his voice made her curious. He had only spoken of her briefly. Clearly she was sacred to him, he wore a pendant around his neck that resembled the one his mother once wore. When he spoke of her, it was full of admiration and doting affection. “Do you miss her?” She asked. She was practically walking on thin ice when delving into this topic. He always shied away when she asked questions about his past. The time in the iceberg was something of a miracle! But something was changing. He was changing. 

 

“Always.” he nodded slowly. She saw him swallow hard, and his brows furrow as he focused on preparing the thread for the needle. She patiently sat waiting to see whether he would continue this topic. Mulling to herself for a light hearted topic to divert to if he did not. 

 

“There is not a day that goes by, where I do not look back at the fragments of memories that I have of her. It pains me to admit it… but I fear i have forgotten what she even looked like. I know she had black hair, like mine. But her features are lost to me.” Wow, he really was changing. Where was this coming from? Why now? She threw them silly questions aside, they didn’t matter. The main thing was that he was finally letting her in. “I'm sure your mother would understand.”

 

“I pray she will.” The room grew quiet again. A strange sorrow lingered into the air. Its source was the blue eyed knight sat gloomily staring at the needle and thread in his hands, making no attempts to join them. She could almost sense an opening of the shell that protected the soft exterior around this stoic man. 

 

“What was she like?” Sharis asked. Carefully attempting to crack open this man’s hard shell. He took a deep weighted breath, filling his broad chest with air. He glanced over at her. His blue eyes, were guarded. Yet a nostalgic air lingered in them as if considering on whether to answer her. But he did.

 

“My mother? She was wonderful. She was kind and gentle. I never remember her raising her voice to me once; not that I needed to be reprimanded. I never remember challenging her. She was very patient and supportive - as any mother should be.” He finished. Feeling he would leave it at that. But something inside him slipped and he felt a calm that made him continue. ”She… She named me ‘Casavir’ after the river that ran by the village where my mother grew up. She always told me how it’s waters were forever a striking blue, and it was always so calm and welcoming. I did, actually, seek out this river. And it certainly is a beautiful sight to behold.”

 

“So, what about your father.?” She added gently. 

 

“I... I never knew him. But I know he was a Nord. He was a regu-” He paused. Glancing over at her, suspecting his words had roused her curiosity. They had. He was scared of telling her anymore. But why? He was not ashamed of his mother. If anything, he held his mother on a pedestal along with the Gods he devoted his sword to. He loved his mother. He was a little unsure of himself. Was he ready to open up? Truly, expose himself to reveal the Casavir that had guarded his heart with steel plate, and wore a mask that held no emotion. He glanced again at Sharis, those emerald gems shone brightly in the harsh Dwemer light, but there was a gentle calm in them. A warmth that reached out to him, offered him sanctuary. Yes. She was not just a cause he followed. She was a friend. A friend he could trust.  He looked back down before he finished.

 

“He... was a regular of my mother’s.” Before Sharis could ask, he turned the key in the dusty lock to his heart. Feeling its walls crumble to dust as he sat on the bed. Exposed - emotionally and physically. 

 

“You see… My… my mother. She did not have the most ‘ethical’ of professions. I never knew about her life career. It only came to my knowledge after she had passed and I was old enough to understand. She was a… a lady of the evening - if you will. Men would pay for her company… and ‘other’ things.” Sharis was silent, he dared to look at her. Instead he focused solely on his clammy, shaking hands as they tried to thread the string through the eye of the needle. His breathing was ragged and his heart pounded. He felt like getting up and running, hiding away somewhere. Like the little lost boy he had been all those years ago. But why? He knew Sharis would never judge him. But he was afraid - he had never opened up to anyone before. Not to his brothers and sisters in arms, not to the priests that had played such an important role in his life and formed his strong and undeniable connection to the Gods. This felt so awkward, speaking of a past he wished to forget. But how could he let it go if he kept it locked away within himself?

 

A sharp sting in his finger snapped him back, he had been holding the needle so tightly that it’s point had pierced into his finger. The skin on his finger sprouted warm red liquid that formed a bubble before dripping onto the shield he was anchored over to hide his torso. A quick moving shadow caught his attention and delicate hands grabbed the needle and thread, taking them away. Sharis cast a quick bout of restoration into his hand before offering him the bottle of mead. 

  
  


“I can’t.” He shook his head. 

 

“Yes you can. There’s nothing else to drink, and it’ll calm your nerves.” She shoved the bottle into his hands before snatching his ripped trousers from beside him and sat down on the bed beside his. She got to work straight away on fixing the tear. “Drink.” She ordered. 

 

She was right of course. The water down here had a strange taste, and he didn’t really trust it. Not after reading what happened to the Snow elves who ate the mushrooms that grew in this place. This was Blackreach. He knew that the moment they climbed out of that water. He pressed the rim to his lips and tilted back slightly. The thick cold  liquid filled his mouth before he swallowed and took the bottle away. He shivered as it’s warmth coursed its way down his body. 

 

“So, are you ashamed of what your mother was? Is that why you never speak of her?” 

 

“I would never be ashamed of her!” Casavir snapped guardedly. 

 

“Good.” Sharis looked up to meet his stern gaze, her expression was illegible. He paused, slowly registering her abrupt and unbecoming reply. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to…” 

 

“It’s alright, Cas. You don’t need to apologise.” A soft and reassuring smile pulled on the corner of her full lips. “I was a little brash there... sorry. I won’t ask anymore.” 

 

“No.” He reached out as if to touch her. His eyes staring at the delicate hands that had usurped mending his trousers. His gaze hesitantly made their way to her face, taking in the view of her beauty as they did so. She was beautiful. The very depiction of beauty. Her silken olive skin cast with the rays of light, her womanly figure evidently visible behind the tattered rags, her damp hair cascading in waves down one shoulder. Her heart shaped face was shadowed, but her emerald gaze shone with light. 

  
  
  


“If… If you wouldn’t mind. I… may I…?” Casavir dropped his hand, his thumbs playing with the rim of the bottle as he let out a heavy sigh. Unsure on what to say. He had never spoken about his past, his past was known to the locals who lived in his home town. But that boy was gone in their eyes. He doubted many would even recognise that boy anymore. He was a man now. Capable to holding his own and defending himself. But the little boy was still hidden within him. The lost soul who hid behind the walls of the Paladin emblem. 

 

“Go on.” She said softly. “I’ll just listen. I won’t talk, and I won’t judge.” He glanced back up at her, taken back by her serene calm, her nurturing warmth written into her face. He suddenly felt even more uncomfortable and awkward. But it was too late to back out now. He nodded slowly. She smiled softly and returned her gaze back down at the tear she was sealing up. “Take your time.” 

 

He took another quick sip of the wine to steady his nerves, placing it assertively down as he plucked up the strength to begin.  

 

“Well. Like I said, just previous. I’m afraid I cannot remember my mother’s face. Or even her smile… but I remember small things, like her hair. Her black hair that fell to her shoulders. She used to sit at the bay window of our small room; staring out as she combed it. Singing to me as I would play with my toy figures. My mother sheltered me from the darkness that waited for us outside of those four walls. It was me and her - against the world. I was... ‘whorespawn’ as they called us. I was labeled that so many times, but i never understood what it meant til I grew up.

 

She would tuck me into bed at night and then leave me while she went out for the night. There were strange noises at night. My mother always told me to stay in the room, not to come out or open the door to anyone but herself, or her friend, Lu. My mother, would sometimes come back early noon. Fresh marks that would turn into bruises, even cuts on some occasions. She was always so tired, but she tried her best to stay awake to play games with me sometimes. But she would eventually drift to sleep, sometimes she would sleep through the night too! She would come back the next morning with more bruises when that happened. 

 

I never wanted to wake her, I remember thinking how she was always so tired, and needed to rest. I didn't know what she was busy doing but… well. It was best I didn't soil my mind with such things that my mother tried so hard to shield me from. 

 

When I was five, my mother grew ill. Very ill. I heard the healers tell her ‘boss’ that she was a lost cause. For months I sat by her bed, all day and night. Feeding her and using what little restoration she had shown me to help her. I thought I could bring her back, make the sickness go away. I was so young, and so unworldly.”

 

_“Casavir, listen to me. You have to be strong. This world can be so cruel, but there is light as well as darkness in it. I need to you be brave now, Casavir. People will need your strength. Be their strength, as you have always been mine. I love you so, so much! My brave little man.”_  He swallowed the stone in his throat as his mother’s words came back to memory at that moment. Her voice remained lost to him, but her words were branded into his recollection. Oh he wished he could hear her voice again. He closed his eyes to repress the wetness threatening to spill from them, the sting tingling his nose. 

 

“Don’t force it, Cas. Just, take your time.” Sharis soothed. A part of him wanted to stop. But he was tired. Tired of feeling like this. Having no one to confide in. Tired of being lost in the sea of his emotions that he had torn him apart inside, yet, he had trained himself to hide them away. He wanted out. He wanted release, closure. Someone to save him. And in Sharis, he saw his escape. The lighthouse, the shoreline which offered him refuge. There was nothing holding him back now, only fear. He’d been lost for so long. Was he frightened of being found? He made a decision, feeling himself jump ship and begin to wade through the black waves towards, Sharis.

  
  
  


“.... It shocked me.” His words strangled in his throat. He took a moment to gather himself again. “That was the first time I ever saw my mother cry. I thought it was because she was in pain. I used what healing I knew but she pulled me next to her, and we cuddled up on the bed, in our cramped little room…. I hate myself. Why?! Why did I fall asleep!?” He bit down on his lip, silencing himself and focusing on the pain to steady of the unruly emotions. Sharis was there, ready to catch his weak heart. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He croaked, wiping away his tears. 

 

“Don’t be sorry. It’s ok.” She hushed softly. Gods, she wanted to pull him in and cradle him. But he was a man, and men were different to women. They were soft on the inside, but they wore a hard shell of pride to hide it. The last thing she wanted was to bruise him. So she just smiled tenderly and waited for him again.  “When I woke up… She had gone cold. I was only five, but I knew she was gone. I remember screaming so loud I felt my own ears threatened burst and my throat begin to cease up. I screamed and screamed as they ripped me away from her and dragged me from the room. I was hysterical, I screamed for her, hoping that she would come running through the door to me. I only stopped screaming when I was hit hard across the face by my mother's boss. 

  
  


I never saw my mother again, and my mother's friend never told me anything about what happened to her body. My mother’s friend, Lu, took me under her wing. She was a working girl also. I stayed with her and helped her save enough gold to buy our freedom. She fell pregnant and wanted to have a better start for us, a new beginning.

  
  


Sadly, Lu died giving birth to her baby boy. She wanted to call him, Noah. I was seven when I was thrown out on the street with, Noah. You see. There’s a market for young children. But in respect for my mother's wishes he spared me that fate. But doing so, meant I was worthless to him. I had nothing but the shirt on my back, and the baby in my arms when he threw us onto the street to fend for ourselves. No orphanage would have us. ‘Whore spawn’ as they called us, were nothing but trouble. We were no better than vermin. 

  
  


I remember Noah just wouldn’t stop crying. All day and night! I tried to comfort him but he wouldn’t stop. I was a child myself, I didn’t know how to look after a newborn! I gave him some milk I managed to buy with a gold coin that was thrown at me when a man passed us on the street. The milk stopped Noah crying at least, but he just did not seem right. He was so frail. I woke in the morning to find he’d died during the night. I felt like I failed. I was supposed to look after him! I had to wait til nightfall, before I left him at the temple steps for the priests to find. Arkay, forgive me.”

 

“That was a very kind thing to do for him.” Sharis moved closer to him and placed a hand on his. Curling her fingers around his hand and gripping tightly. Casavir suddenly looked up, his blue eyes brimming with tears. He winced, the sudden touch had shocked him in his weak state. He would have hidden behind his hard shell again, but the warm and tender glimmer in her striking eyes was all it took to bring down his walls at this moment. The lost soul inside him stood motionless, lost in her eyes for a moment, the rapturing arms that reached out for him took hold, and the soul gave in. Sharis handed him the bottle again for him to take another sip of the nerve stilling liquid. He did so, knowing he was safe. Safe under the sheltering wings of the Dragon. “How long were you on the streets?” She asked. 

 

“A long time.” He answered. “I was hungry, alone. And I was scared. I had no one to turn to. Nowhere to go. The nights were the most frightening. People would come looking for a ‘quick fix’. If one was not careful, they’d catch you and either use you for target practice or… or something else. I saw many orphans on the street being dragged away I was almost caught a few times myself! But the ones that were snatched, were never seen again. 

  
  


I remember another boy on the street came to me once, he was older than me, part of a gang. He told me, If I wanted to survive; I needed to learn how to pickpocket. He taught me how. So, I found a target. I slithered through the market to a finely dressed noble, but when I reached for the gentleman's coin purse; I heard my mother’s voice. It stopped me instantly, and I remember being so ashamed. She would have been so disappointed in me if she saw me doing such a thing. Before I could retreat, the man’s friend spotted me and grabbed me. I tried to explain but they both dragged me into an alley and beat me.”

  
  


“That’s horrible! How could they do that?!” 

 

“... I was a street rat/whore spawn.” Casavir huffed a passive sigh. 

 

“You were a child!” 

 

“That’s not the way they saw it. To them, I was just another money pinching thief, who needed to be taught a lesson.” Casavir sighed. Sharis shook her head, clearly disgusted by what she just heard. “Sorry. Carry on, Casavir. Please, don’t stop.” She begged softly. He bowed his head. The words, flowed like water down a bubbling beck. So easy to speak now, no matter how painful they were, knowing Sharis was there to catch him was all the comfort he needed. 

 

“When the men had finished. They left me, they threw my broken and lifeless body to lie in rotting waste. I. I had hit my low, and I just wanted to die. I didn’t try healing myself like other times. I just laid there. Waiting for my mother to come for me, 

to bring me home. I wanted it to end. I tried to be brave, and I tried to be strong… but I just… lost the will to care.” The sting of fresh tears came to her eyes, she blinked hard and wiped one that fell. To think of a child feeling that way. It was gut wrenching!

 

"A priest found me, and brought me to the temple. He dressed my wounds. Bathed me. Fed me. It was the first shred of kindness I had been shown in such a long time. I fought him all the way. I Thought he was trying to hurt me, or use me to get his ‘fix’." Casavir chuckled to himself before continuing.  

 

"After a while, I began to trust him. He was an old man. Hlam, his name was. He wore a patch over one eye, but I remember the one eye that was visible was such a deep brown it was almost black. I think that's what frightened me when I woke up and he was sat washing me as I sat in the tub. He taught me to read, and write. My knowledge of the divines, is thanks to him, I have so much to thank him for. He taught me how to harness my restoration skills, how to make it stronger. Purify it. 

 

He and the other priests agreed to let me live in the temple. In return, I would pull my weight and help maintain the Temple at a high standard. I looked up to Hlam, he was like a father to me. I was twelve years of age, when he passed away. I remained at the temple, and became a friar for a short while. Until that one fateful day… I was bringing some firewood back to the temple; when I heard a commotion coming from the alley I passed. There was two young boys, my age, cornered by… five?… I can’t recall. But they were certainly outnumbering these two young men. Something inside me told me to help them. I don’t know why? But I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. I realised something then, something I never noticed before. I could take a punch, and I could give twice as much as I could receive. It was the first time I truly fought back. All my anger, the wrong, injustice I had suffered; It all came flowing out of me in pulsating waves from each strike. I managed to fight these heathens off long enough for the guards to show up. I only remember watching those thugs scarper as I fell unconscious with the sudden overload of adrenaline and having sustained a few nasty wounds myself. 

  
  


When I woke up I was in a house. I was in a soft bed and was dressed in clean clothes. You see. The boys had carried me home and told their father everything. He was so grateful, that they let me stay there for the night. First. it was just as a kind gesture. But then, their father offered me a job to help him with his work. He was an ex adventurer, skilled in all sorts of trades.  But his main occupation was ships. He was a merchant who sold his goods all across Tamriel. 

  
  


The sword I wield in my hand, to this day, is the first sword I ever owned. And it was him who bestowed it upon me on my fifteenth birthday. He taught me how to wield it and how to fight. When I was sixteen I had joined the city guard. I quickly worked my way to the top of my rank, I made my name as a guard that did his duty, I was serious with my job, and well respected. When I was nineteen, I was assistant trainee to help others in the city guard. I do not mean to be big headed, but I was good! And I was proud of it.” He stated, looking very proud of himself. But then his eyes grew dark, averting to the floor once again.

 

“Then. When I was Twenty, I joined the legion. I again, ascended swiftly to the top of my field. After six years of devout service. I was offered a chance to leave. I accepted. The army was not for me, too many times I was ordered to walk away from people I knew I could have helped. It eats away at you…” 

  
  


“So that explains the nightmares…? They’re from the things you've seen. Aren’t they?” Sharis asked, immediately regretting opening her mouth. She could almost see his fictitious walls going up again. Shit.  

 

“More like the things I have done.” He replied. Surprising her that he had even responded to her question. She felt her heart reaching out for him. The thought of this brave and beautiful man had endured so much was truly a shock to her system. How could a man endure so much pain?

 

“We’ve all done things that we regret. I mean, look at me! My compulsive potty mouth and my impulsive stupid moments. I’ve done things that I regret. And there are things that I don't regret. But that’s OK. Because feeling remorse for our actions makes us mortal. We just have to keep moving, and try our best to be a better person than what we were yesterday.” Sharis finished her speech, feeling a little awkward. But Casavir smiled thoughtfully and nodded. 

 

“You’re right. Thank you, my lady.” She watched him as he straightened himself and his voice turned more content. 

 

“Well. Not long after my leave. I met a man, a Paladin. He stayed at the inn where I would stay after my work at the mines. We got along well! He told me everything that a Paladin stood for, how they lived to fight for justice and the greater good. I begged him to take me with him on his travels. I wanted to be like him. All the good deeds. Helping people who needed it, protecting people. I didn’t want to live out my days coughing up soot. He accepted and took me to the Temple of the nine. Where I became what I am today. And here I am.”

 

“Wow... I always thought you were a highborn noble.” Sharis mulled. Casavir's nervous and passive chuckle made her look up to meet his gaze. “You know, because of the way you talk…!” 

 

“No. no, I read - quite a lot actually! It was a great pass time when I lived at the temple. Many of the priests and monks who lived there also spoke with an eloquent tongue.” 

  
  


“I suppose some rubbed off on you.” She smiled. Reaching for the bottle and raised it to take a sip. Casavir’s eyes were fixed on her as she did so; though she only noticed after she had taken a swig. She gave him another smile before pushing the cork back into the bottle. His pinkened cheeks and the doped expression was a sign to her that he’d had enough.

 

“Thank you, my lady.” He spoke softly, his thick voice dripping with appreciation. “I have never told anyone about my past. So, that was a ‘new’ for me.”

 

“Well. I’m honoured that you felt comfortable enough to tell me. Thank you.” She said, the warmth from her kind smile reaching up to her twinkling eyes. “Well! Here’s your pants. Do you want to sleep first, or…?” 

 

“Ladies first.” Casavir replied with a shake of his head, taking the trousers from her. She nodded and got up from her seat across from him. She stepped forward and cupped his moist cheeks. His eyes gazed helplessly up at her as she leant down. His heart fluttered and he suppressed a shiver, a tingling sensation ran through him as her lips landed softly on his brow gifting him with a soft affectionate kiss. It was only when he opened his eyes again that he realised he was tilting his head to bring himself closer to her. His heart sank a little when he watched her casually walk away with her usual hip swaying walk. He loved her walk, so feminine and relaxed with a slight bounce on each step. 

 

He looked down at her stitching on his trousers. He frowned. “My lady, you’ve sewn the leg shut.” 

 

“Ey, I can stitch. But I never said I was good!” She laughed, flashing him a coy grin. He sighed, allowing a grim to tug on his lips. 

  
  


“Goodnight, Cassie.” 

 

“Goodnight, my lady.”    
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What's with these people? Why are they here?!” Sharis asked nocking another arrow in her falmer bow and poking out of her hiding place. They’d seen a giant yellow orb and just followed that, hoping that it would have been a sign to the Elder Scroll. But they they found were rocks, more rocks, and Falmer. Now there was people attacking them! She had managed to get close enough to see the blue slime streaming from their eyes and nose. They must have eaten the mushrooms. Those poor people were fighting alongside those barking monsters, those things must have forced them to eat the mushrooms and share their twisted (and somewhat tragic) fate. 

 

There was no helping these men and women. They had lost their minds down here and seemed unwaveringly loyal to the Falmer. Sharis and Casavir had scoured this Fort. They'd scoured every damn building they found. Their search was fruitless. Their moral was weakened, with no food but the bottle of ale they had been rationing and the disgusting portioning troll fat from a troll they bumped into. They were starving. Her stomach ached and a nauseous sensation came and went. The feeling of her stomach eating itself. They didn't dare build a fire to cook the trolls meat. The smell of smoke and food would only attract trouble. 

 

“My lady-!” Casavir suddenly grabbed her and pulled her back. Shyly missing a ice spear to the face. “That's it! I’ve had it! These bastards want a fight? they got one!” She snapped. Scuffling to her feet and darting out of her hiding place. Her ward up in one hand and her ebony sword in the other. “WULD.”

 

The ward melted the ice spears into droplets as they spattered her face. She charged into a falmer driving her sword into its chest and kicked it off the edge to fall down the drop. Now, turning to face another that was approaching to her right. He was cut down before he could come any closer, Casavir was there to join the fray. He was such a formidable bad ass in battle. She would often stop and admire his dance of death. 

 

Her heart stopped when she saw another Falmer approach. It's dirty bone sword swing up and hit Casavir. He staggered back. Blood pouring from his face. “Cas!” She saw him drop to his knee. One hand holding his face as it spilled with thick crimson liquid. She leapt forward, enough anger to fill 30 battle ready men. Gripping her sword’s hilt with white knuckles. She kicked hard at the back of the Falmer’s leg to bring him down. She saw red, not just with the blood that just exploded from the Falmer's skull after she had done clobbering it. But the wild frenzied anger that boiled inside her. Her Casavir was hurt. She wouldn't fail to protect him again. The remorse she felt for these creatures was long gone. Their story of betrayal and torture meant nothing after what they had put her and Casavir through. Her fury filled eyes snapped up to at look at anymore who dared come close. They were gone.

 

She dropped the sword and turned to Casavir, his whole body aglow with warm light. He looked up at her, his blood masked face showed no wound. “Are you OK?!” She asked filled with panic.

 

He nodded, eyes warm yet downcast. “I'm sorry. I miscalculated his swing.” 

  
  


“Don't be. You're still in one piece.” She smiled as she wiped the blood from his face. There wasn't even a scar! Casavir blue eyes snapped up to something behind her. Curiosity made her turn to see a Falmer archer on the ledge, positioning himself to get a clean shot at the two. 

 

“Oh no you don’t.” Sharis growled. Her eyes clouding over and her voice twisting as though three people spoke in unison. “FUS RO DAH!” The thuum boomed from her voice, the loud crack of unrelenting force blew the Falmer high into the air, hitting the glowing orange orb hanging from the roof. They froze, listening to the sound waves ring with a loud chiming sound coming from the orb. Great. They both jumped, their eyes roamed the sky when a roar joined the ringing chorus. Dragon. 

 

“A dragon? Here?!” Sharis exclaimed. “Oh sod that! Casavir, get down there.” she ushered him down the ledge to the short drop. She followed after. Unexpectedly landing in Casavir’s arms as he helped her down. Her heart raced a little when she felt his large hands grip her waist. His hot breath tickled her face as he anchored her down. “Thanks.” She stuttered. 

 

They both watched as the giant winged beast landed on top of the tallest tower looking onto the platform they once stood. She glanced to Casavir, his face turned to stare at the dragon. The orange glow harshly cast on his face. He was exhausted, and so was she. Her temper had got the better of her and it had resulted in Casavir getting the nasty end of a crude swords swing. No. They couldn’t go up against a Dragon. Neither of them were prepared nor fit enough. Before she could suggest sneaking to the archway leading into the midnight land. Casavir’s eyes widened and he ducked down. “He saw me.” He stressed a whisper. 

 

Oh, give us a break! She sighed. She conjured her bow from oblivion. One of the only conjuration spells she bothered to learn. They waited for the roar. The battle cry to sound the dawn of a new assault. But nothing came. Exchanging quick glances at one another they peered up from their hiding place. Her heart leapt to her throat for a second when her eyes met the beasts, who was but a few meters away. She was suddenly ready to fight, her protective nature ready to duel this creature if he dared come any closer. But it just stood there. Staring at them. She didn't see any malaise of fighting spirit in the dragon's eyes, his deep heavy breaths that rattled the air were calm. She took a moment to collect herself, wading through on what to do next. 

 

They were in no fit state to start a fight. This Dragon didn’t even appear to want to fight. Would it care if they just decided to walk away? She landed back down on the ground beside Casavir who was clutching his sword awaiting his briefing of their plan. 

 

“That way.” She pointed to the exit. He frowned, confused at her response. ‘What about the dragon?’ she could see the question in his eyes. “He won’t hurt us.” She replied calmly. Gesturing with a wave of her hand towards their exit. He stared blankly at her for a moment unsure whether to trust her judgement. But he did. Always. He nodded and they slowly made their way to the exit. The dragon did not move from his spot, watching them walk away and out 

of the court yard. His hands dropped calmly to his side, as they walked along the yellow bricked road towards the first building they came across. The atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a knife. 

 

They quickened their steps when they reached the metals doors and hurried inside. Casavir sighed, disbanding his welling adrenaline and suspense. The dragon hadn’t followed and they were somewhat safe in here. A soft weeping sound made him turn round; Sharis had slumped against the walls. Hugging her knees to hide her face as she breathed ragged breaths. “My lady!?” He gasped, coming to kneel before her immediately. “Are you…?”

 

“I don’t think I can do this… I’m not strong enough.” She shook her head. Crystal tears wet her thick lashes as she stared at the ground. The carefree spark that had been burning softly in this dark place was dying out. It was painful to see her this way, she was always such a strong person, unrelenting and tenacious, but there was so much weighing her down. He could feel it too. 

 

“Yes you are. Look at me.” He grabbed her shoulders and tilted her up to look at him. Her emerald eyes spilling tears brought the feeling of a blunt knife being driven into his chest. He swallowed hard, composing himself before he spoke again. “You can do this. You are so much stronger than you realise, my lady. The Gods would not have put you to such a task if they did not believe in you.” She seemed unconvinced. The hope in her eyes turning to dust right before him. “Please… Don’t give up on yourself?” 

 

Her eyes met his, lost in a sea of darkness. Then a light in dark began to glow dimly, her hands reached up for his face. She pushed herself up and wrapped herself around his neck, pulling him close and moulding to him. “I can’t do this without you.” She blubbed, sucking in a trembling breath. “You’re my strength.” 

 

Those words hit him like a wave. ‘Strength’. His mother's last words to him flooded his mind. Yes. This was it… what his mother wanted. What he wanted. To hear her say it almost blew him off his feet. His chest swelled and his eyes brimmed with tears, arms holding her in a rapturng embrace. “I’m here… I’ll always be here.” He sighed. Damn this armour, hard steel walled between them. But doing so only made him focus more on how close her face was. Her cheek pressed against his neck, warm clouds of breaths rippling delicately on his exposed skin. They did not move, this moment was sacred. As all great embraces are. A moment of bonding, connecting with one another as he was not willing to do with any other.  

 

When he opened his eyes, still holding her tightly, he realised these walls were not familiar. The short distance of hall before them lead to a circular plate on the ground, and in the centre was a lever. He tapped her back to attract her attention. “My lady, I don’t think we have been here before.” He commented, helping to her to her feet as he went to inspect the contraption. The four cogs evenly spaced had tracks running up above them. He turned to Sharis who was shaking her head. 

  
  


“That could lead to anywhere.” She sigh morbidly. His gaze remained hopeful, unlike Sharis who seemed to be dragging herself along now. He nodded. 

 

“It could lead to the Elder Scroll.” He smiled reassuringly. Reaching a hand out for hers. “Shall we, my lady?” His deep voice so hypnotic and beautiful she could not resist. The hope and strength in his aura made her move forward and step onto the platform with him. His fingers curled around hers as she took his hand and he pulled her close, gripping the metal lever with his other. 

 

With a rumbling shake of the platform under their feet, the platform slowly began to climb up the tower. Removing them from the world of Midnight, and taking them to the land of the unknown.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Wow… manic chapter amirite?

So before I get shot by the SR lore police. This is MY version of Casavir’s past. I always see him as a gentle and troubled soul and it is a well known/ongoing debate that many people who have suffered greatly in life are the ones who are more willing to help others. I see Casavir as a man who has had to endure many, MANY struggles in lifetime and has been able strive above them. REMEMBER: This is only my version on his past, and it is no way the real thing. Like i have said before; little is known about his past so it makes so much fun to work with.  

 

If you don’t like it: I understand. To each their own. 

If you do like it: Fantastic! 

 

Now, enough ranting from me. Hope you guys have a great morning, day, evening, night… wherever you are and what ever time you are. Encase I don't write install another chapter before Christmas. 

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS! 

  
  
  



	28. Liberty

“I’m sorry.” Sharis said, staring at the harsh ribbons of light reflect off the floor.

“For what, my lady?” Casavir asked, looking rather puzzled. She sighed, bringing her weary gaze to look up at him.

“For this. Constantly crying on your shoulder. You must be so sick of it by now. It’s just… I’ve never had anyone that i felt comfortable enough to cry around. I always used to hide my tears; just keep smiling and let no one see just how scared I-” She paused. Well… that one slipped. Casavir stopped and turned slightly to look at her again, curious at her words.

“You’re, scared…?” He questioned, gently pressing on the subject. She hid her face, unable to bring herself to look at him now. She never wanted anyone to know how scared she was.  
This damn prophecy. The forecast of the end of days; and the one who could save them all. Why, why me? She asked herself over and over. Esbern’s Ghost stories of Alduin only frightened her more. She felt Casavir turning to face her fully now, his hand reaching for hers. Butterflies danced in her abdomen to the beat of her racing heart. His large, but gentle, hand took hers and held it carefully. His other rested on top.

 

“My lady. It is alright to be scared. It is impossible for one to be brave without the existence of fear. They are equals on opposite sides of the spectrum. And may I say… You are the most courageous woman I have ever known.” His rich deep voice was filled with warmth and admiration. She could feel herself swooning again. _By Stendarr’s grace, forgive me for my weakness._ She looked up to his cool blue pools, warm and kindness rippling in the soft waves of Casavir. She could feel the apples of her cheeks burning, she smiled nervously and looked away before he could notice. _Bloody Paladin charms…!_

“Thank you, Casavir.” She swallowed hard with a dry mouth. “That means allot to me.”

“Of course. And regarding your apology on your tears, it is not needed. There is nothing wrong with a woman crying. You women, have an innate ability to-”

 

“Us women?!” Sharis snapped her hand away before Casavir was finished. His words evaporated as he looked at her, completely bewildered at her response, yet the realisation started to dawn on his face and he sighed. “I didn’t mean-”

“So what?! Because I’m a woman, it makes me inferior…? Does it?!” She growled. Her emerald eyes hardened as her nose wrinkled in disgust.

“N-no. I never said-”

“Just so you know, Paladin! I can do anything just as good as you. Apart from get itchy balls – because I don’t have them. So I can’t readjust them when I think no one is looking. Don’t deny it! You ain’t THAT discreet. What, with your random leg stretches and quick jigs.”

“Wha-?! my la-!” The blushing Paladin stammered as he tried to interject, but she was off. She was on one of her ranting raves and when she was like this, there was no stopping her.

“And here I thought you looked at women as equal.” she clicked her tongue off the roof of her mouth.

“My lady please-”

“Oh, forget it! C’mon! Let’s find this stupid scroll.” She stormed off ahead. Leaving Casavir to wonder what just happened.

 

It had started out being such a meaningful moment. An opportunity for bonding, but it had turned sour within seconds.  
 _She’s noticed me readjusting myself? Oh good Gods!_  So all the times he had woken up with wood, or his armour had pinched, she had played oblivious the entire time?! Had she noticed the random unprovoked erections too! Surely not! He threw aside his vain embarrassment, knowing he couldn’t leave it like this. His words had hurt her, and he felt the persistent nag to make amends.  
He hurried along the corridor and into a room where sulking Sharis had vanished into. A steam pipe broke from the ceiling and had turned the room into a sauna. Old books and desks sat around the walls, but he was more concern as to find Sharis. Who was, thankfully, just a the other end of the corridor. Stood silently in the archway of a set of doors.

 _Sharis…_ he sighed. Making his way over to her, with guilt and confusion weighing heavily in his stomach. He didn’t mean to upset her. He wasn’t saying women were weak. He just…

“My lady? I’m sorry if I…” he paused when she turned to him. Wincing away slightly as he expected her emerald eyes to be cold and hard. But they were filled with apprehension. He looked ahead to see what had caused such an expression, only to see a dead end. Before them looked like the base of some kind of giant sphere. A stone path continued around the wall and lead up to above them. Harsh ribbons of purple light sparked from Sharis’ palms as she made her way towards the stone walk way. Casavir unsheathed his sword, preparing himself for what may await them up top.

They rose into what looked like a story room, or perhaps a council room for the Dwarven nobles. Dwarven galvanised chairs were partnered with stone desks which formed a circle around the top of the golden orb. A higher raised part of the room appeared to be some sort of presentation area. She made her way up towards the peak of the room, overlooking the singular row of desks circled around the Golden platform before them. Before her, was some kind of control system. A row of buttons, individually guarded by a metal sheets. Beside them, to her right, was one without a button, but instead a mechanism that looked as though it was missing something. A key? A book?… A box? The cube hanging from her belt seemed to weigh down on her now, as though it was making it’s presence know to her.  
Curiosity bore into her being, pulling her into submission as she pulled the lexicon from it’s place by her side. Like a child attempting to complete a Khajiit puzzle box, she placed the lexicon into the slot. It fit like a glove.

A metallic crack pierced the silence as something clicked in the mechanism cranked into place. Casavir jumped and readied his sword, expecting to see a Dwarven automaton to come crashing into the room. But then the room fell silent again. He hurried to her when he saw her inspecting something on the metal device before her.

She gave Casavir a apprehensive glance as she reached for one of the buttons which had been unlocked. Her finger pressed down on the blue gemmed button – nothing happened. She tried the button next to it and watched in awe as the rings on the peak of the giant orb before them turned and twisted.

 

“Cas…?” She said. “I think we found it.” A hopeful smile slowly crept onto her face. She began to press the first button, watching the mechanical arms moving above them. The golden platform moving below them also.

She quickly realised it was not as simple as pressing a button and the elder scroll was to be handed over.  It was a cryptic puzzle, one that she wasn’t prepared for. She would stomp around the room to cool off before abruptly coming back for another round of aimlessly pressing buttons.  After watching her routine of cooling down over and over. Casavir decided to have a turn.

 

He wasn’t sure, but he wondered if the alignment of gems on the raised centre platform needed to match up to the gems above them. His eyes snapped curiously over to the Dwarven cube, it lifted itself and opened in a strange way. The lexicon’s metal corners parted as it began to levitate. A ice blue object, similar to the stones they had seen in Blackreach was inside. It had never done that before. He looked back to the controls. One of the guards had lifted from the other two buttons. This looked promising.

 

“What did you do?” Sharis asked, abruptly ending her grumpy skulk the moment she saw the machines mechanical arms come to life.

“I noticed a pattern. My lady, the guard on this buttons have lifted.” He replied, noticing he had granted them access to the entire system.  Sharis darted up to him to see. He was about to step back and let her continue but she grabbed his arm.

“Well don’t stop now!” she waved at the controls. “C’mon brain box, crack the code!” She roughly rubbed the thick padding on the back of his arm. Hope was beginning to dawn in her eyes, it was growing brighter and brighter by the second. He didn’t want to extinguish such a lovely sight.  
He had always had a knack for puzzles and riddles. He rather enjoyed challenging himself and would often play all sorts of brain teasing games. It was a great pass time when he was on the road alone, and it was always useful in distracting him from the hard hand of loneliness he would often feel.  He had cracked the code within minutes. Leaving them both to gawp at the mechanical arms as they pulled back against the domed roof and a large gem was lowered down into the centre of the platform.

“… Is that the…” She asked but silenced the moment the teal green case opened and a bright light shone from within. She looked at Casavir. Casavir looked at her. They both shared the look of disbelief. Was this it? Had they found, the Elder Scroll of legend? Were they free from this Godforsaken place? Only one way to find out. They both walked down to the ramp to face the platform. As they grew closer, Sharis noticed a cylinder shaped case inside. A white colour with a soft gold finish. She knew their search was over.

 

“Go on. Take it.”

“I-I’m sorry?” Casavir gasped in disbelief.

“Take the scroll. You solved the puzzle, you should have the honour.” Sharis replied adamantly.

 

He was shocked. Overwhelmed with being given this opportunity, but also nervous. This was not his mission. His mission was to follow her quest, help protect Tamriel from the Dragon crisis that now plagued Nirn. But this quest had taken an unexpected turn; and now he was just a few feet away from an Elder Scroll. He watched helplessly as she stepped back and pressed her hands against the metal that was his back plate. The gentle force led him one step closer. His eyes now fixed on the glowing ray of light, harboured within the crudely shaped gem case.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. With sweaty palms clenched into fists and his chest puffed up he began to advance towards the centre of the raised platform. The air was suddenly tense, filled with an illusionary weight that felt like it was crushing him. Now, he was stood before it.  
The air around it beckoned, and pulled him in. He carefully clasped either side of its handles and lifted it from its stand. It was lighter than he expected. Almost none existent as it rested in his palms. He turned to Sharis, who stood by the skeleton of what was a man who had decided to die here. Attempting to crack this puzzle, rather than leaving to escape from this place. The doors behind her lured to him as he stepped off the platform and handed her the scroll. Her hands trembled with nerves as she held it.

“It’s much lighter than I thought it would be… are you sure it’s in there?” She giggled nervously, giving it a shake to be sure, hearing a satisfying rattle of paper.

“I hope so.” Casavir replied, quickly placing a hand on it to steady her shaking of the ancient scroll. “Do you wish me to carry it? Or I could carry your supplies instead.” He offered. It seemed more reasonable. Her supplies were much, MUCH heavier than the scroll. She nodded and handed him her backpack as she attached the scroll to her back, the way she had done with his sword. They both now stared at the door behind them, leading to another room, in the centre was a lever, the cogs ran up the walls, along with an engraved arrow that pointed up above them.

“I hope this is our way out.” Sharis sighed hopefully, pulling at the lever. The platform rumbled again and the cog turned, slowly cranking them higher and higher. She conjured her bow and Casavir kept his sword in hand as they ascended.

 

The cold air greeted them first, shortly after by a bright light, then flecks of snow wafted through the air.

Neither of them spoke.

Stood side by side, together in the mutual silence.

Staring through the bars at the vast sea of trees and snow capped mountains. The evening sun cast an orange light as it dipped behind the distant sea of misty peaks.

They made it… They did it…  
Sharis cranked her head slowly to Casavir as he did the same towards her. Realisation hitting them like a slow seeping tide. A smile mirrored from Sharis’ lips to Casavir’s.

“We did it.” Sharis said.

“Yes… We did.” He replied.

 

Three… Two… One… Sharis threw her arms up in the air and sounded a victory cheer. She ran to the bars, inspecting to see how to break free of this prison. Casavir had already seen another lever on the pillar beside the gates and pulled on it. Releasing Sharis as she threw herself over the short bout of steps and into the thick layer of fresh fallen snow.

“My lady! Are you alright?” Casavir hurried after her, worried she had hurt herself. But she was rolling around like a puppy seeing their first snowfall. She had rolled on her back and was moving her arms up and down, her legs opening and closing. Parting the snow around her.

“We did it! We did it!” She sang. Climbing back to her feet to look at her masterpiece. “Ooooo… That was supposed to be a snow angel… I think I raised my arms too high.” She grimaced.

“Well.” Casavir sighed. “You made a fine looking… Keyhole?” He raised a confused brow. She threw her head back and sounded a beautiful, warm, hearty laugh he hadn’t heard since they first stepped into Alftand. She Turned to Casavir with a radiant glow on her face that warmed him, that moment he saw the wonderful light that was Sharis, burning brightly once again. He smiled too, standing at the foot of the steps.  But the guilt of how his words had scorned her made themselves known again. This time, he would not let this misunderstanding go amiss.

“Sha- My lady. I want to apologise for upsetting you earlier. It was in no way my intention to offend you. What I was trying to say was.”

“Cas-”

“No, please. Allow me to finish.” He quickly cut her off. He felt rude in doing so, but he needed to fix this fallacy.

“My lady. When I referred to your gender, before. I wasn’t labelling you as a weak. I was simply labelling… Well, no. I… I wasn’t labelling. I was… trying to ‘explain’ my understanding.” He swallowed hard, the back of his neck turned itchy and he resisted the urge to scratch it, knowing it was nerves making themselves known. “You see; you are able to express yourself in ways that… Well… In ways I can’t. I’m sorry if I came across as rude, or berating. I truly didn’t mean to. And I must profusely apologise. You’re the only person that I… I feel like I… emm. I-I’ve never had anyone who I felt safe enough to share myself with. No…!  I mean-! Oh, damn it.” that’s it. The words he had planned on saying abandoned ship, and they took the ors with them. Now he was left stranded.

 

Sharis smirked. He was adorable when he got flustered and lost for words. The way his pale skin would turn bright crimson, and his lost puppy expression would make his blue eyes even more enchanting.

“It’s ok. I know what you mean.” She placed a hand on his bicep, the one place where she was not met by cold steel. The one place where she could feel the gateway to the man hidden underneath the armour. “I’ve never really opened up to anyone, only you. In ways… You’re my first.” She gauged a wavering giggle and the innuendo pun. Waiting for his response. He smiled nervously and bowed his flushed face.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. It wasn’t fair on you. I was just… I was scared of being stuck down there, and it was tormenting me. And I guess you got the bad end of it.”

“It’s alright. I understand. I did worry too.” He confessed. He would never have said it when they were down there, but the dreaded thought had crossed his mind more than he would like to admit.

“And I’m sorry – for the… ‘ball’ thing….” Sharis added. He cheeks burnt just as red as Casavir’s. His eyes widened and he finally gave in to the almighty urge to scratch the back of his neck. “Err… Perhaps we could…just pretend that didn’t happen?”

 

She smiled and rocked back and forth on her feet, before the awkward air blew away and their eyes met each other again. He saw something shift in her eyes, warmth and tenderness remained; but something began to mist them as her eyes began to dilate. He felt his breath labour as his heart began to swell. A telepathic howl, calling to his soul as she stepped into him. Her other hand reached around his middle, pulling herself against him. Her face turned to the side as she rested her cheek against the cold steel.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” She purred. Pressing herself against him and squeezing his middle. Her sultry sweet voice made his body quake in delight as its warm clouds of breath danced away in the cold evening air. He lived for these moments. To feel the warmth and light that radiated from her and seeped into him. That rapturing feeling that she gave him every moment he spent with her. Only he felt nothing. The steel suit was hindering his senses. His heart sank, his soul pined to feel her warm embrace. But he had to remain strong. It would be unbecoming of a Paladin to take what he desired. That was not the way.  
She let go of him but still remained close, a sound echoing from below them attracted their attention. Then movement caught Casavir’s eye. An elk, grazing on the shrubs that poked up from the cold white blanket of snow. Was in sight, amongst the trees at the foot of this hill. It lifted it’s head with a strong pair of antlers and bugled. Casavir pointed to the elk, his eyes lit up with the chance of food.  Days of surviving on troll fat and mead left them staring at this creature like a pack of hungry wolves.

 

She grinned, conjuring her bow from oblivion as she advanced carefully down the hill to get closer to the Elk. She was careful not to make too much noise as she fell into position. Nocking a purple incorporeal arrow in her bow, she drew back and aimed. She held her breath and steadied her snot. Before she could release her arrow, the ice wind blew and whipped her long unruly waves into her face, losing her focus and the arrow shot into the elks rump.

“Damn it!” She cursed. The elk now startled ran off. Sharis quickly waved to Casavir to follow as she gave chase. Trying her best to follow the trail of footprints and blood droplets in the snow.  
“My lady, wait!” Casavir called, finally catching up when she stopped to inspect the trail.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. Casavir was pointing over to something. A building. No – a settlement. Built resourcefully with the help of the ancient Nordic structure that still remained. She beamed a smile, as she turned back to Casavir. “Civilisation!” She whooped, running towards the fort.

 _Food!_ Casavir thought as he tried to catch up to her. The snow was deep, and vines and twigs hidden beneath caused real problems for him. Tripping and stumbling was so flattering. Not! Oh, if his brother’s and sisters in arms could see him now. Thank Stendarr they couldn’t.

She was on the road now, giggling like a little girl at the prat of a Paladin who was picking himself of the snow bed for the third time and was brushing the snow off himself. She waited for him to finally step onto the road and together they made their way to fort in a quick, yet casual pace.

 

“Halt!” A voice ground them to a stop. A Nord man stood on guard at the fort’s wall was staring down at them. “This here is a toll road. 600 gold. Pay up, or face the consequences.”

They stared blankly up at the man, others began to appear on the wall. Another came up on the other side, pulling the bow from his back. His stern and callous face softened as he fixed his eyes on Sharis.

“What? Since when do we pay to use a public road?!” Sharis sniped, clearing unconvinced at the Nord’s statement and his lack of manners. Normally, Casavir would have stopped her. But he could smell a rat. These people didn’t look like they were members of any Jarl’s office. Where were they exactly? Certainly not in the place where they had began their venture into the ruins.

Casavir spotted movement above them, the two towers had men situated on their roofs. Arrows nocked and aimed in their direction. Their armour consisting of hide and scraps of leather, adding the occasional metal gauntlets or a helmet. These weren’t tax men. These were bandits.

 

“Good sir. We have been travelling in the wilderness for quite some time, and we seem to have lost our bearings. Would you do us the kindness of telling us our whereabouts?” Casavir stepped forward, intentionally blocking the path to a well aimed arrow from Sharis.

“Caas!” Sharis growled beside him. He flashed her a quick assertive glance which made her silence. She knew not to push when he gave her that look. Something wasn’t right. And he could sense it too.

“You should have been keeping track on your map.” The man on the wooden watch post sneered. Sharis growled low enough for only Casavir to hear.

“We-!” Sharis began.

“Yes. But sadly travelling through Dwarven ruins have a tendency to make one become lost. I am unfamiliar with this land, which only makes my travels much more painstaking. Please? Would you kindly tell us, what is this place? Are we still in Winterhold?”

“Ha! You’re way off track.” The man snorted. “This is Fort Dunstad. You’re in the pale, now. Winterhold is twenty miles west from here.”  
“Thank you sir. We shall be on our way.” Casavir bowed his head and brought a protective arm around Sharis, who had gown silent and looked lost in thought. He nudged her gently urging her to turn back.

“Oi! Hold up there!” The Archer on the wall dropped his arrow and called. “You don’t wanna be lost out there at this hour. We could give you lodging for the night. We have warm beds a food.”

 

Now, Casavir was a knight, an ex soldier, he had endured an abundance of extreme situations. He was well acquainted with hunger, thirst and sleep deprivation. But even he was struggling with the painful ache in his stomach for nourishment. He could smell bacon on the wind and maybe even a stew. But even he was not foolish enough to fall for their deceitful tricks. This was not as innocent as it appeared. He knew that.  
Sharis was staring at him from under her long lashes, hardened concern etched into her brow. Her eyes guarded. He looked at Sharis and gave her a nod. She shook her head, pulling at his arms to stop him from taking another step. He spun on his heel and gave her a smile, innocently adjusting the cloak that sat on her shoulders.

“Be ready for a fight.” He murmured low. “Do you think you could thu’um the archer off the roof?”

 

 _Oh. This was his plan._ He wasn’t oblivious to them. She stared at him, determination in her eyes along with a coy gleam. She mimicked his actions. Reaching up and loosening the lace to his cloak so it would fall off when the battle began.

“The fall will kill the one on the tower. Perhaps injure the one on the platform…?” She mulled. “Casavir, I don’t like this.”

“If we walk away, then they will hunt us down. I’m afraid we have no choice.” He sighed. “We have endured worse. Besides, they have no idea they’re welcoming a dragon into their fort.” he replied with a wiggle of his thick brows. “Are you ready?”

She smiled bravely and nodded. His smile broadened as he applied the innocent gullible mask onto his features. Stepping to the side and offering his arm to Sharis. She held her smile,  looping her arm in his as she played the sweet innocent Breton mage who was being escorted by her bodyguard. The watchmen’s eyes were fixed on the two travellers as they walked into the open gates.

“Be careful.” He whispered to her.

“Giv’m hell, Paladin.” Sharis muttered.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The tension in the air was as taut as a bowstring, growing tighter and tighter as each step brought them further into the wolves camp. Any minute, this tension would snap and hell fire would rain down on this place. Her mer ears heightened as she could hear the incoherent mutterings of the men around her. She could hear the two men stood on the wall, muttering about the fortunes that reside in Dwarven ruins. One was blatantly eying the gold cased cylinder on her back. More men began to appear. There were more men that they had first assumed.

 _“We have endured worse.”_ Casavir’s words played in her mind. The warmth of his body radiating from the thick padding on his bicep. His expression, calm as always. But she could see the battle ready warrior in his eyes. The eyes of a soldier. No matter what happened now, she would protect him. They could have the gold, the slither of midnight, they were labelling her sword on her back. Hells. They could have the scroll. But they were not having her knight.  
The wooden gates behind them closed with a soft boom. She looked around at the men who were staring at her, they were unkempt, dishevelled and their lack of hygiene with evident.

“Nice armour.” One muttered, beginning to circle the two travellers.

“Thank you.” Casavir replied. The man snorted, his lips peeling back to show his dirty teeth. “We’ll be taking that armour. And the bitch.” He eyed Sharis.

“I’m afraid you will have neither.” Casavir calmly responded. The man boomed a loud and obnoxious laugh. “Brave bastard, ain’t ya?! Ha! Kill him. We’ll share the girl between us.”  
“You picked a bad time to get lost, friend!” A man behind them barked. On the sound of a blade rasping behind her, she saw a man approaching with his war hammer raised to come down on Casavir.

 

“Now.” Casavir turned quick and pulled his sword from its sheath, twirling fast and raising his blade to block the strike. The innocent Breton in her was gone, along with the wind that cast their cloaks aside. Violent crackling ribbons of  light burst from her hands and succeeded in staggering the war hammer wielding orc, giving Casavir a chance to make his assault on the rest of them. An arrow shot past her and bounced off the floor inches from her foot. She looked up at the two archers, who now fumbled to pull another arrow out of their quivers. They looked back to the two travellers, only to meet Sharis’ vengeful gaze.

“FUS, RO DAH!” The thundering crack of her voice boomed from her throat. It’s air shaking force hurtled towards the two archers who stood no chance against its ferocity. Their bodies were picked up and carried away. Neither would survive. Good!

She turned her attention to the men around her, Casavir was cutting them down like a farmer with a sickle. But there was still too many for him to face alone. She summoned her lighting in her hands and blasted a small platoon of them off into the spiked barricades that they had placed at the entrances. Someone behind her, wrapped their arms around her and squeezed her tightly, lifting her off her feet and power drove her to the floor. The thud to the ground left her momentarily dazed as she looked up at the Nord who had put her there.

“You’re mine now!” A man growled down at her. She rolled quickly to evade the thudding impact of his large iron boot, but she couldn’t escape the other, when it banged into stomach. Her body curled inward to cope with the pain that wracked her, the air pushed out of her completely. She saw his boot coming again, but this time, when it made the impact, she was more prepared. Her body curled in to absorb the shock and latched on tight. He began to yank and pull frantically as he tried to free himself, but at this point, he was doomed. She send a pulse of lightning to course through his body which made him convulse violently. When she was satisfied, she let him go and watched him for a moment as he shook and fell face down dead on the floor.

A hand grabbed her and pulled her to sit up, her instinct was to fight against it. But she calmed herself the moment Casavir’s blue eyes met hers.

“Are you alright?!” He asked. Worry was notched into his face, along with the splats of blood from his enemies. She nodded and clasped his arm when pulled her to her feet. He had managed to take down the melee fighters. It was quiet now. They stood together amongst the bodies of their fallen victims. She would have felt bad, killing wasn’t something she took enjoyment from. But she felt no guilt for her actions… she felt nothing. She didn’t like it.

 

A echoed scream floated on the wind, her half-elven ears pricked up and honed in on it’s origin: The tower.

“Over there!” Sharis announced. Picking up a hide shield from one of the bodies and running ahead. There were three more bandits inside the tower, dressed in heavy armour, possible keeping guard of something. The screams grew louder as they hurried to the top.

Sharis was up ahead as Casavir finished of one bandits. She was up two flights of stairs when she turned the corner into what looked like a torture chamber that had been refurbished into an office. There, sat with his Orcish boots up on the table as he messily chugged down a tanker. Was a old, very large orc. His armour thick and crudely made (as Orcish armour always was). The moment he saw Sharis, his lips curled into a perverted grin.

“Well, now. Ain’t this is a surprise.” He snorted, rising to his feet and whipping the booze from his beard. “Have you come to replace my sl-”

He didn’t get chance to finish. She had no patience for time wasting monologue. She let out a loud thundering crack from her throat. Blasting him off his feet before he could even reach for his mace. His body crashed into the stone wall, before landing and breaking a table that housed a set of weapons. He didn’t move. His body was a mangled mess as his lifeless eyes stared into nothing.  
Casavir ran in behind her, hearing her thu’um always put him on edge, he knew she only used her shouts when she was desperate. He expected to see her in the heat of battle, or struggling to fend an opponent off. But instead she was just stood there, staring at what looked like a blood stained mass of armour and weapons. On closer inspection, he saw a face.  
A scream rattled through the halls, ricocheting through the tower. It was much louder now. Casavir was the closest to the screaming, he turned his attention to the hall on his right. Hurrying down he burst through the door to see a young, Bosmer woman chained by her ankles. Upon seeing Casavir she scurried back against the wall and screamed so loud it rattled his skull.

 

“NO! NO MORE! LEAVE ME ALONE!” She cried, throwing a wooden bowl in his direction. He dodged it quick and sheathed sword, thinking she was threatened by the sight of the blood drenched blade and armour. He stayed at the door, respecting her demand as she sat curled in the corner of what looked like a cell. No bed, just a pile of hay to sleep on. Her ankle fashioned a crude red ring from the iron band which chained her to the wall. Her once tawny skin was now peppered with a ashy tone, covered in deep large bruises and scabs. Her bony legs exposed completely as all she wore was a torn dirty tunic. The fire torches shed little else; she was Bosmer, she was female, and she was a prisoner.

 

“I will not hurt you. Please, calm yourself.” Casavir tried, but she only screamed more when she caught him idly shift his weight. The ear piercing sound was enough to make him take another step back. But another sound demanded his attention. A soft wailing, a cry that called to the maternal instinct inside him. He daringly took a brave step into the room, looking over to see if his suspicions were correct. A baby. Wrapped in a goat skin furs, he was sat in an old water trough, crying. Clearly distressed by what must be his mother, screaming.

“My lady!” Casavir spun on his heel quick when he failed to miss a flying book to his shoulder. Clearly the woman wanted him no where near her. But perhaps Sharis, a woman, would have better luck. Sharis was behind him within seconds, her eyes wide in horror when she saw what she had come charging up this tower for. She slipped past Casavir like a leaf in the wind and bravely stepped into the room, the woman did not scream, but she fumbled to look for something to use as a weapon.

 

“Ey, ey, ey. It’s ok. It’s ok. We’re not going to hurt you.” Sharis soothed as she crouched down to the woman’s seated level. The woman’s chest rose and fell with adrenaline and fear that was being pumped through her. The frightened Bosmer was pressed so much against the wall, she might as well have been part of the wall fittings. Her wide eyes flicked around the room, terror spilling from her eyes in streams tears. Any movement Casavir made left the poor woman to fly into a state of panic. So in her best interests, he decided to leave the room.  
Sharis had been in there for a while. From the archer windows, he could see the sun dipping down and plunging the land into darkness. He could hear Sharis trying to calm the woman, trying to convince her that they were not bandits. There were moments where there would be sudden noises that would make Casavir feel the need to run in encase Sharis was hurt. But he knew she would be alright.

He spent the time looting the tower for any supplied they may need on their travels, and to be sure there were no bandits lurking in the shadows. He found a long cotton dress for the woman, when she decided it was safe to leave her cell. A rugged fur cloak and hood, some fur boots and he even found some more wrappings for the baby. He left them outside the cell door while he went to loot more supplies.

 

His mind wandered onto the baby, the poor thing had been stuck out of reach of it’s mother. Her screams had frightened him. And these monsters that now lay dead in the snow, did nothing to help. This land was more corrupt than he first thought. It seemed the further they were from society, the crueller this land became.

He looted a rather sturdy looking bow from one of the weapon racks. It was well made. The string was strong and taut and the wood was well shaped. A Bosmer’s archery skills were legendary, perhaps the young lady would like to use this…? When she was up to full strength, of course! And since she was clearly going to be joining the group, it would be wise if she was able to defend herself.  
Footsteps echoed from up the winding staircase behind him. His hand gripped on the pommel of his knife attached to his belt, preparing for an attack. But he saw two women, one wearing a mages robe. Decorated with miss-matched bits of armour, a fine fur cloak rested on her shoulders and her wild cinnamon waves bundled into a ponytail which cascaded down the right side of her face: Sharis. She had a protecting arm around the other woman; a Bosmer woman, wearing a long green cotton dress and a fur cloak on her shoulders, a bundle of linen in her arms that was wriggling as it gave off a soft gurgling sounds. The Bosmer woman stopped on the stairs when she saw Casavir. She didn’t scream or try to run, but she seemed afraid to take another step further.

“It’s ok. This is Casavir, he’s my companion.” Sharis soothed her. Casavir moved cautiously, afraid any sudden movements would scare her. He gave her a gentle nod. Then turned his attention to Sharis who was holding a brave, calm demeanour, but her eyes were shadowing deep seated anger and concern.

“My lady. Perhaps it would be best to stay here. The night is upon us, and I do not think it would be wise to venture out in this hour.”

“OK. But not in here. I saw a small hut when we came in. Maybe we could check that out?” Sharis suggested. Casavir nodded. “Allow me to secure the area. You stay here for now.” Without anymore said, Casavir turned around and left the tower to secure the fort.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
The air was cold and crisp. The night sky was glistening with a thousand stars, a smoke wave of red and orange centred through the night sky, as Masser and Secunda shone down to light the night. He was sat outside onlooking the gates while he tucked into his stew and hot snowberry tea. The cold held itself at bay as he sat on the bench by the door. Sharis was inside with the woman, nursing her wounds and helping her bathe and dress herself and the baby.

 _Those bastards,_ he thought. They had broken the poor woman to the point there was barely anything left. She hadn’t said a word, nor gestured a yes or a no. Who was she? What was she doing here? Oh. He was no fool – he knew exactly why she was locked up in that room, and why she was chained. The spoon in his hand bent completely under his firm grip, the thought of what (he could only imagine) she must have endured. And the baby? The poor little tot couldn’t have been more than a year old! He hadn’t managed to get a real look at the baby, every time he was near, the woman would back herself against the wall, so he decided to stay away from her and the baby until she was comfortable with his presence.

It was to be an awkward night – that was without question. Where would he sleep? Would he be able to sleep? He may be looking at another sleepless night. Good job he was used to this. Still. At least he finally had a belly full of food, and he could finally look up into the heavens.

 

“Mind if I join you?” A sudden sound of a woman’s voice made him almost spill his tea. He looked over to see Sharis stood beside him, her cloak hung over her shoulders as she held it closed with one hand, and held a mug of tea in the other.

“My lady! Y-you should be inside, resting.” He fumbled to catch his dignity as he checked he hadn’t emptied his hot beverage anywhere.”

“I can’t sleep. I thought I’d come and sit with you. Is that ok?”  
“Of course-!” He shuffled up on the bench for her to sit beside him. Her presence was welcoming, soothing to his soul but at the same time, she forever made him feel like a lost pup.

“Beautiful night.” Sharis broke the silence as they both stared up at the stars above. He nodded. “Indeed. Not a cloud to be seen. You can see the constellations if you look carefully.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Look.” He pointed up to the mass of stars. “That is the constellation for the thief. And over there, is the sign for the ritual.” Casavir glanced down to look at her, the moonlight shone gracefully on her face, the stars twinkled in her large beautiful eyes, her full plump lips slightly parted as she looked up in wonder. His heart quickened and the breathtaking sight rendered him lost for words. She was so close. So close he could feel the pressure of her body beside him, so close he could swoop down and claim those beautiful tempting lips in a split second if he wanted to… and he did want to! But he couldn’t. She was too good for him, too wild, too unruly, too kind, too pure, too far. So close – yet so far.

“Wow…. It’s so cool how you know all this. So, where’s the lady?”

“Ah, well. She is not visible in the sky until Hearthfire. It’s the month of evening star right now, so as you can see by that small close knit of stars; the theif is waning – as is this month. And morning star, is dawning – the ritual.” Casavir explained. She had no idea what she was supposed to be looking at. They all looked the same to her, there could be nothing up there and she would still be nodding her head like she knew exactly what he was showing her.

“… I see…. I suppose it makes sense, I mean, I was born in Hearthfire. So it makes sense that ‘the lady’ wouldn’t show until then.” She shrugged. Casavir chuckled in his throat. She sighed, staring down at the mug in her hands. Her mind was trying to think positive, but the pain of empathy she was feeling for the woman and her baby was nagging at her, like a sore tooth.

 

“How is she?” Casavir asked, his timbering voice was soft and mellow. Almost like he was afraid to disturb the air around them. She sighed deeply. She was (in some ways) thankful he was so observant. He seemed to always know when something was troubling her – even when she tried to hide it from him.

“She’s sleeping. But she won’t talk. I’m honestly surprised I got her down from the tower! I can’t even begin to think what they must have been doing to her…!” She leant her back against the stone wall behind them, staring up at the billions upon billions of twinkling stars.  
“…. and… The baby?” Casavir dared ask.

“The baby’s fine. Bright eyed lil Bosmer boy. With a lil Orc mixed in.” Casavir remained quiet. They both knew what must have happened here, but neither of them wanted to air their suspicions. It didn’t really matter… not anymore.

 

“I knew someone who lived here.” Sharis said. Her voice low and full of sorrow. “The last time I saw them, was when he was dropping me off at Kynesgrove as he was passing to cart his goods to Windhelm. You know? The dragon attack…?”

“I remember.” He nodded, the sorrow spreading through to him as he remembered those lonely nights. “That was eight months ago…!” Casavir added.

“Yep.” Sharis nodded, pursing her lips into a tight line as she looked around into the black. “I just hope he and his family aren’t here.”

“I saw no bodies when I was checking the towers. Only the bandits.” Casavir commented, offering a shred of hope. “Well, that’s good news I guess.” She nodded, her eyes downcast.

  
She looked so worried, her free spirit weighed down by the chains of responsibility that she wilfully carried. She was strong, brave, and kind. She would fall, she would bend under the pressure, but she never broke. Even in the depths of her despair in Blackreach, she had been so easy to encourage, as though she hadn’t truly given up.

She carried this burden alone, and the darkness and cruelty of this world was looming over her, but she still shone bright. He saw her shiver as she pushed her back off the cold wall, her body moving closer to him as she gave him a tender weary smile. He grabbed the tail of his cloak and threw it around her for extra warmth, inviting her in as he raised his arm. She shuffled into his side, resting in the crook of his arm while he shared his Nord inherited ability to endure such cold climates.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Casavir soothed. Sharis hummed softly and wrapped her arm around the back of him to lessen the pressure on her Paladin and share it with the bench. The smell of earth on his skin and the sweet tang of his masculine scent lured her in. The rumble of his voice in his chest was hypnotic and the distant thump of his beating heart relaxed her troubled mind. “I hope so.” She mulled.

  
They sat together for a while, listening to the night come to life with the nocturnal bird songs and the distant howls of wolves on the hunt. The Elk and deer running through the snow, and the wind brushing through the trees of Winter. It was peaceful, and she no longer felt the cold hand of Winter as it tried to nip at her. Nothing could touch her, not when she was huddled up with the most precious thing she knew. Her Paladin: Casavir.

The sound of a little baby crying behind them made them wake from their lucid trance. She moved away awkwardly as he let her leave his grasp.

“I should… go see if they’re OK.” She said, pulling herself away from him. He nodded and watched her walk away back into the house, but not before looking back at each other.

  
He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. By the Gods, this was only getting worse. He was loosing himself, his reason for why he came here was trivial now. All he wanted was her, to help her, protect her, stand by her side and share her burdens. Was it wrong to have such a closer friendship to someone? But this was more than friendship, more than just a simple quest of following his leader like a good soldier. She had given him a voice, asked for his wisdom. Encouraged him to share his opinions and acknowledged them. He understood the way she thought. One time he would have deemed her as unpredictable, but now he could pinpoint her movements or course of action before she had acted. And she was able to do the same for him. They understood one another’s humour, interests and temperaments. This was more than friendship, so much more.

 

“Cas!” Sharis’s panic filled cry had him barging through the door before he realised he was no longer seated. The warmth of the hearth met him as he dashed into the room. Sharis was stood in the corner with the baby in her arms. Panic ablaze on her face. “She’s gone!”

“W-what? Are you sure?!” He asked. His brain struggled to register all this sudden drama. Sharis nodded and handed him a piece of paper, the words ‘I’m so sorry. Take care of him.’ were written with coal.

 

  
“What do we do?” Sharis asked, bouncing the baby gently on her hip to calm him. Casavir looked at the baby, then back at Sharis before placing the paper on the counter nearby and turning to leave.

“You stay here with the baby. I’ll bring her back.”

“Cas, she’ll run if she see’s you!”

“I have to try.” he replied before swiftly heading out into the cold night.

As much as he tried to assert his demand for her to stay with the baby in the house. Sharis had the baby attached to her side, wrapped in furs as she helped him look for her.  
Would she leave the Fort at this hour? Surely not. It was almost pitch black out there! And she wasn’t in any state to be venturing out alone. So where would she go? She couldn’t have got far. Her eyes scanned the surroundings but something inside her beckoned her to look up.

There… on the peak of the tower. With Masser as it’s backdrop, was a black silhouette of a woman. Stood at the edge of the tower’s roof. Her heart stopped the moment she saw it, the slither of dread snaked it’s way up her back. She didn’t need to gesture, Casavir had seen it too.

“NO! DON’T!” Sharis shouted.

 _Oh shit!_ Casvir was racing over as if he was going to make it in time to catch her. There was no way he could zip up them winding stairs in time to stop her. Nor would he be able to save her if she did come hurtling down. Sharis was running with him, hoping to be some kind of support. But it was too late, they both grounded to a halt when they saw the figure, fall off the end, rushing to the stone walkway below.

“FUS, RO!” Sharis boomed, hoping the change of directional force would slow her down – maybe even save her! But the ball of energy missed her and she kept falling. “No!”

 

With the dreaded wait of her landing just seconds away, Casavir turned quickly to face Sharis. He pulled her and the baby into his chest to shield them from the inevitable sight. There was a loud thump and crunch which split the silence. The night fell still once again, the baby in her arms was wailing, obviously startled by Sharis suddenly releasing a thundering crack. Tears fell from both the baby’s and Sharis’ cheeks, her brow pressed against the hard metal of Casavir’s chest plate. Casavir’s large hands rubbed her back as he stood as the wall between them, and the gruesome scene that was behind him.

 


	29. ... Whiterun?

 

Casavir was on watch duty. His chest rose and fell in a calm, steady manner, but his mind was anything but 'calm'. His eyes vigilantly looked out into the blackness before him, the night was filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures on the hunt. None sounded too close for comfort, so at least he didn't need to worry about that - for now at least...  
His sword placed in front of him, arranged for accessibility encase one of the runes was set off. He sat in the arch of the shelter Sharis had made with branches from the pine trees and a few furs she could spare. She was surprisingly well equip for outdoor survival, no doubt she picked up a thing or two from the Ranger.  
Their little Campfire crackled in front of him, breathing soft waves of warmth into the shelter. They were still in the Pale. Sharis had placed their shelter close to the rock face, giving it the benefit of being protected from the icy night's wind, and concealed well within the cluster of pine trees. They hadn’t stayed long after the events that unfolded at Fort Dunstad. Casavir had collected the pieces of the woman’s body and burnt them that same night. He prayed to Arkay to grant her peace and safe passing, and at first light, Sharis and Casavir were on the road with the baby. Their map had not survived the swampy waters of Blackreach, so they were practically walking blind.

  
They were on their way to Whiterun. Whiterun was a very diverse city and full of energy, similar to Solitude. Sharis had friends in Whiterun, and if anyone would take in a little baby Bosmer with an adorable giggle. His best bet was Whiterun. Riften’s orphanage was out of the question, they had both heard stories of that place and there was no way they would leave a little baby in the hands of a wretched old hag.

He looked over at Sharis who was sound asleep in her bedroll. She had immediately taken on the task of being a surrogate to the Bosmer, while Casavir helped where he could; but he had kept his distance from the baby. Something he had unknowingly conditioned into himself, after the mother had acted up by Casavir simply walking into her line of sight, it made him feel the need to step aside, and allow Sharis to take care of the baby. He would instead be their protector. He did feel ashamed, it was clear to see that Sharis was physically and emotionally drained from doing all the feeding, cleaning, entertaining, night calls, tantrums. The list went on. He wanted to help… but he didn’t know a thing about baby’s... and he was so small! What if he dropped him?!

The little baby by her side was asleep in his own cot. Sharis had made it by gathering twigs and branches to section the baby off before laying leaves and furs down for him to sleep on.

The baby was a light sleeper, and he would wake often for comfort of another person. Often settling for a hand on his tummy, or a stroke on his forehead. But tonight was different from the other nights. He was VERY restless, and it had taken longer than usual for Sharis to settle him. He could tell on her sleeping features that she needed a break, the bags under her thick lashes were dark, and she was laid out in a way that looked like she had just fallen asleep the moment she hit the hay... but he knew she'd be up the moment the baby began to cry.

He sighed, flexing the muscles in his hands before he tucked them back under his cloak and looked into the night. Snow fell softly down through the trees and evaporated the moment it reached the glow of the fire’s warmth.

  
His mind replayed the events that happened at Fort Dunstad, over and over. They were on Sharis’ mind too. A part of him was angry at the woman, being so weak and overly trusting; to just end her life and leave her infant in the hands of strangers. But who was he to judge? He had no idea what she had been through. How long she had been held captive? Was the baby’s father lying dead in Fort Dunstad? Or had those heathens killed the father long ago, and took the mother and child for their prize? He didn’t know - they would never know.

  
His ears pricked up to the sound of the baby beginning to stir, it’s grunts and soft gurgling sounded distressed. He looked over to the little tot to see him kicking at the furs. Casavir’s eyes seesawed from Sharis to the infant.  
 _Oh, c’mon. Give her a break! She was exhausted!_ He knew if the baby grew any louder, Sharis would wake for sure. She had become an incredibly light sleeper these past few days, more than usual. No. It was time for Casavir to step up to the plate.

He took a deep empowering breath, as he crouched down and made his way to the bundle of furs. The little Bosmers deep brown eyes that were brimming with tears held fast on Casavir’s the moment he saw him. This was the first time Casavir had actually been face to face with the little boy. His glossy large eyes stared curiously at him, leaving Casavir feeling rather uncomfortable.

“Umm... Hello...?” Casavir whispered. The baby just stared.

“What’s wrong little one?” Casavir asked, inspecting the wild twig and leaf bed. “Are you cold?” No, not cold. Anymore furs on him and they would struggle to find him in the morning. The baby just stared, drinking in every inch of the Paladin's face. This only made the awkward air between them intensify. But why was he expecting the little Bosmer to reply. He smirked, refraining himself from laughing at the thought of a baby this size blowing out into a full eloquent conversation.

 _Well… at least he’s stopped now._ Casavir thought. He nodded his head awkwardly and tucked the little babies furs in some more. “Err… you… go to sleep now.” He said. Feeling rather accomplished with his efforts. But the moment Casavir began to leave, the baby began to whimper again. Scared he’d wake Sharis, Casavir popped his head back to see the little baby halfway into a crying fit, only to stop and begin to stare at the knight again.

“Can't you just sleep? It's bedtime.” he asseverated. The baby just continued to stare.

 _He was just fed two hours ago… He still smells fresh…. And clearly not tired…_ Casavir sighed again. Feeling nervous. He couldn't remain here and entertain a baby when he was supposed to be on watch. He glanced at his seat by the fire and the entrance of the shelter. Then back to the baby. “Ok. Ok.” He whispered, finally deciding on what to do.

  
He reached in carefully and worked his fingers around the baby's middle. His large hands slowly and cautiously picked up the baby with ease. When the baby just continued to stare at him, no sign of distress on his face. Casavir carried him, still in the furs, to the exit. There, he sat himself back down and placed the infant on his lap. Well. He wasn’t crying - so that was a good start.

This was the first time, in a long time, he had held a baby. He had children come over and talk to him. Some would follow him and ask ‘Can I try on your gauntlets’ or ‘Hey, wanna play tag?’ But he hadn’t held a baby (let alone socialise with one) since he was seven years old. He knew babies were soft and delicate, but he had forgotten JUST how it felt to hold such a small and fragile creature in his hands. He was wracked with nerves as he felt the soft puppy fat of the tot pressing against his fingers. And the malleable, unpredictable load made him worried he might drop him. Perhaps it was because he was older now, he'd grown larger and stronger and now this baby was so small and full of pudge, he was worried, what would happen if he held him too tight? He's squish like a soft tomato. _Shit._

  
The baby just quietly sat on his lap, it’s undivided attention fixed on the grooves of Casavir’s thick padded undercoat. His teeny little fingers rippled along the quilted texture, settling on a fraying piece of fabric. Casavir found himself fascinated by simply watching the baby taking in it’s surroundings. The full blown curiosity in his eyes. Their insatiable hunger to see everything around them all at once. Casavir shuffled a little to get in a more suitable seating position; one where he would be able to get up quickly if he needed to, and also one where he could sit comfortably.  
The movement made the baby look up to meet Casavir’s blue furtive gaze. It’s blatant, unwavering stare with those big, deep brown eyes made him feel uneasy. But at the same time, entranced. He was cute... very cute. He resembled a Bosmer in many ways, and in other ways, orc. Elvish babies always had such big eyes, as if their heads would grow to fit them as they remained huge and open. His jaw was slightly more boxed, instead of being narrow like a Bosmer’s; and when he opened his mouth to smile up at the Paladin, he could see the lower canines poking through the gums. He was a rather chirpy little thing - when he wasn't fighting sleep.

 

 _I suppose I should try to entertain him,_  Casavir thought, after realising that they were now just awkwardly gawping at one another. He frantically rummaged his mind for something to entertain the little boy. Singing? No! His singing might bring unwanted attention or even make the baby cry. He needed something to distract him… he remembered Sharis pulled faces sometimes... that always made him giggle!

Casavir looked around to check he didn't have an audience other than the baby. “Well, it's just the two of us.” he muttered to himself. _Ok… here we go…_ he slowly poked out his tongue, watching the little baby's eyes widen and stare at it. He quickly sucked it back in and watched the little Bosmer continue to stare as it continuously poked out and snapped back in. Just when Casavir was going to succumb to the shameful feeling of failure, the baby giggled.

 

 _It's working!_ Casavir thought. The baby gurgled happily and wriggled on Casavir's lap, he reached up and began poking and squeezing the course skin of Casavir’s gruff five o’clock shadow. Now, the baby was entranced by the  sandpaper like feel of the Paladins cheek. Casavir felt the corners of his lips begin to tug upwards, a warmth filled him, he found himself lost in the innocent eyes of this small creature. So unworldly, curious and eager to learn everything. His heart swelled as he felt the euphoric feeling of a maternal bond beginning to take hold. He had kept his distance from the baby long enough. Now, he dared say, he might never put him down.

He was sat with the little Bosmer for quite some time, making the baby giggle and silently building a bond he had been so apprehensive to make. He was enjoying this time with him, and was becoming more daring with his immature antics. Puffing up his cheeks and letting the Bosmer push the air out of them, having to keep his deep chuckle low when the baby would smile and gurgle, turning his attention to Casavir’s thick eyebrows that Casavir was bouncing up and down.  
 _I could get used to this,_ Casavir thought as he proceeded to puff up his cheeks and blow raspberries to the baby and watch as he giggled at the entertaining performance.

  
Suddenly, Sharis sat up in her bed roll, startling Casavir and even the baby Bosmer. Her eyes staring past the confines of their camp.

“My lady? Are y-”

“Put the fire out. Quick!” Sharis sprang from her bed and scurried to throw the fallen snow over the fire. Casavir was going to ask why; but he knew better than to ask at such a time. He placed the baby on the bedroll and proceeded to help Sharis bury their campfire in snow and bits of dirt he managed to scrape from the ground. When they had completely submerged the fire, Sharis scurried in the shelter and grabbed the baby. Their little camp was plunged into darkness. A small dwindling glow of orange was all that remained of their fire. He couldn't see a thing now, but he  carefully moved himself to be knelt on one knee while the other was ready to be used to spring him into battle.

Casavir’s attention shot up to above them. When a shrilled roar filled the night sky, large winds swatting the night air. A dragon. The roar of the large creature was the only sign they had that it was close, yet still airborne. Hopefully, the thicket of forestry around them was enough to deter the dragon from trying to land if it was too late to hide their location from the beast. He began to reach for his sword but Sharis’ hand was what he met, her fingers gripped his hand tightly refusing to release him. He could hear the baby grumbling to himself as he too was curious at the strange noise that split the night.

 _Akatosh, please make this creature leave us in peace?_  Casavir silently prayed. He could sense the baby's worry at the alien noise. If it did land, he wouldn't let that beast near. But Akatosh must have heard his prayer because the roar faded and the sound of air whacking wings began to dissolve into the soft night winds.

 

“Oh, thanks the God's.” Sharis breathed a heavy sigh and released his hand. He couldn’t see, but he could feel the angst in her voice. A flickering white light began to shine in her hand the moment she let go of his. The little white orb floated above them and remained stuck to the roof of their shelter. She laid the baby down in the furs and tucked him in again.

“We have to get to Whiterun. It’s not safe out here.” Sharis barely whispered. Her whole demeanour was weak, she looked like she was going to collapse beside the baby’s bed, far from her own. Casavir just watched in silence. Seeing her wracked with worry was not a sight he ever wanted to see on her, his chest rose as he inhaled deeply, reaching out to grab her hand again. She looked at him, her once bright eyes were dark with worry.

“We will make it to Whiterun, my lady. And we will find him a home.” He calmly replied. She sighed, looking down at their linked hands. Her fingers proceeded to curl around his.

“I’m just so scared. He’s so small... If... if anything happened to him… I-”

“Nothing will happen to him.” he replied earnestly. “You won’t allow it… and neither will I.” He gripped her hand a little tighter. His voice was soft yet was very assertive. She nodded and turned her attention to the little boy who had sat himself up and was staring at them.

 

“Come on little one, bed time.” Sharis laid him back down and began to stroke his cheek. He was fighting sleep, and was getting rowdy. With it, Sharis’ patience was waning. “Oh,  please sleep…?”

“My lady. Let me tend to him. You need to rest.” Casavir insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder. She stared at him curiously for a while before she asked. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. With that, she decided to let him take over. She inched herself to her sleep roll and slipped back inside. “Thank you.” She said, laying down and watching him as he hushed the baby. Holding the baby’s hand with his. The baby wasn't being as nearly as rebellious as he was when she was getting him to bed. He laid there, staring up at the tall blue eyed man. His eyes were relaxed and gripped Casavir’s index finger. When the boy started to kick and grumble, Casavir would shush him softly, stroking gently from between the toddlers brows and down the length of his button nose. It was working. The baby began to blink slowly and he shuffled as if to get into a comfy sleep position.

She watched him, the strong, tender calm that was in those two blue pools was so welcoming. Not only to her, but also to children. They saw something in him, every child he encountered would stop and stare, stalk him through the town they visited, and some even dared come up to him and have ludicrous requests like ‘Can I try on your gauntlets?’ or ‘wanna play tag?’ he had an innate ability with children… it was almost sickening.

A part of her felt sad for him, he was amazing with children. The love in his eyes when he knelt down to their level to talk to them, and his compassion for them was clearly immeasurable. With all that into consideration… this would be the closest he could ever be to having a family of his own. His vow prevented him from such worldly delights. _Stupid man… why would he do that to himself?_ How did he go from soldier, to selling his life away to the God's in such an inconceivable manner, and at such a young age. She felt the darkness of such a topic growing around her and swiftly dismissed it before it drowned her.

 

“We… we should name him.” Sharis said, resting on her elbows as she gazed lovingly at the toddler who was drifting to sleep.

Casavir seemed unsure, he shrugged and wrinkled his nose. “I suppose…. Do you have a name in mind?”

“...Well… I got one…. But I don’t know how you feel about it.” She grinned bashfully; a grin that always brought his lips to instinctively tug upwards. His eyes narrowed in curiosity, now leading her to focus her full attention on the baby between them.

“You think I will laugh?” He asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Please, my lady? Don’t leave me in the dark.” He pleaded. Harmoniously along the with the extinguishing of the mage light above them. She giggled in the darkness of their tent. Casavir scoffed amusingly as he acknowledged his impeccable timing of words; the room lit up once more as a twinkling white light formed from Sharis’ hand and bobbed its way to the roof once more. Sharis was resting on her side now, her hand pressed into her cheek as she propped herself up, her other hand returned to the baby.

 

“How about… Noah?”

Casavir felt all expression in his face dissolve as he stared at her; her face refusing to turn to look at him. But her eyes seemed to be aware of his affixed gaze. After a few awkward moments (that felt like minutes) of silence, her eyes flashed over to meet his, she looked like she had just broken something priceless, and she’d been caught red handed. His eyes were dark, not with animosity... with something she couldn't quite read. She pulled her lips in to moisten them, and swallowed nervously before she spoke again.

“No? OK… Well… Um…. emm…”

“I like it.” He commented, leaving her rather lost for words but also relieved. His deadpan expression was so confusing. She thought he would immediately refused the suggestion. He was such a remote and somewhat solitary character, when it came to his past. They had advanced greatly these past weeks. Blackreach had been a blessing…. In a sick, sordid, kind of way. She had been nervous to suggest the name, thinking he would have been upset and even angry. But she was so happy he liked the idea. A soft, mellow smile grew on her face. “OK. Noah it is then!”

“Yes.” he nodded. His soft welcoming eyes that once were so shielded were almost an open book to her now. Apart from when she decided to drop shock bombs and leave him completely stunned.

She nodded too, and sucked in her bottom lip to bite on for a moment as she leant over to kiss ‘Noah’ on the cheek. “Goodnight, Noah.” She chimed against his cheek.

“Goodnight, Casavir.” She whispered, looking up to meet his warm and adoring gaze. He bowed his head gently, keeping his blue gems fixed to her. “Good night, my lady.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They had been on the road for a while, hunting for a sign post to tell them where they were. Sharis was looking more perplexed the longer the day went on.

“We should have seen a sign by now. Surely!” She whined, kicking through the snow aside as she walked ahead.

“I'm sure we’ll reach a town soon. We should just keep following the road.” Casavir commented. Easing her tensed mind. She sighed, looking down at Noah that was attached to her chest.

“You're right. We’re bound to reach a town soon.” She boosted herself up and smiled at Casavir. “But I think we need to stop for a minute. Mr doe-eyes here is smelling funky.”

“Again?!” Casavir exclaimed. “Ok, over there?” He pointed them to a small thicket of trees, Casavir stood on watch while Sharis changed him, he was a handful at changing time, holding his legs tightly shut so she couldn’t wipe him and trying to put his hands in the way.

 

“OK, we need to move quickly.” Casavir said.

“I agree.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Quick. Hand me another rag, Cas. No! Not them! No-!”

“Oh, good Gods!”

“Oh, WELL done. You better go wash your hands before the smell sticks to you.” Sharis couldn't help but laugh. Casavir nodded and handed her the torn linen wraps they were using to clean up the baby's mess.

“I’ve just seen a small beck, down there.” She jerked her head in the direction of the small running stream they had crossed.

“I can wait.” Casavir protested.

“Go. I’ll be fine.” Sharis laughed, looking over at the Paladin who was trying so hard not to breathe in the smell. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes scanning hers as he processed her request. Then he nodded.

“I shan’t be long.” He bowed his head and marched himself off to find the origin of the sound of running water. She smiled, shaking her head as she turned back to the baby laying on the linen wrap.

“Silly Paladin put his hands in poo poo!” She cooed, making the baby giggle. When she had cleaned Noah, she cast the dirty rags aside and dressed him. Fighting with him as he refused to put on his trousers.

 

“My lady.” Casavir came back with a content smile. “I have just spotted a town.” He pointed in the direction.  
Sharis screwed her face up in confusion. They were nowhere near the grass plains of Whiterun. _A town?_

“Show me, please.”

Casavir led her down the road until they cleared the thicket of trees. There, situated along the coastline of the sea, that had been hidden until now, was a town. By the four pointed star, that was painted on the banners that blew in the coastal winds. This was Dawnstar.

“I don’t believe it.” Sharis shook her head in disbelief. “Th- this is Dawnstar! W- we’ve been going the wrong way!” She howled in anger, toning her rage down when she remembered she had a little toddler in her arms. Casavir was silent, watching her almost lose her cool. Even when she was in one of her grumps, she was still beautiful. He stepped closer and clasped a hand on her shoulder, her emerald and gold eyes looked up to meet him as he gave her a calm and reassuring smile.

“Well, at least we will be out of this cold.” He commented. She continued to look frustrated, but his positive outlook on the situation seemed to be taking an effect on her, she sighed, closing her eyes as she nodded. When she looked back up, he smiled calmly at her and gestured to the town with his hand.  “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” she grumbled. She was annoyed. But she was more annoyed at the fact she had been leading them off track, and now she felt like a complete goof.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

This place was very odd. Everyone seemed as cold and hard like the residents of Windhelm. Perhaps the weather was refraining them from have a warm and hospitable demeanour, but to think on it, Nords were not known for their hospitality. He had easily found a table in the corner and ordered some hot stew and bread, and even a baked potato, which he was planning on mushing with a little butter, for Noah.

The atmosphere was tense for some reason, people were sat around staring into nothing and seemed lost in deep thought. Had someone died? Had the war ended while they were away from civilisation? Nearly all the locals were cranky and quick to snipe at one another. _Odd little town_. Casavir thought.

He was mashing the potato meat in a small dish with a scoop of butter when he heard a familiar giggle, and a angelic chime of a hearty laugh. He and nearly everyone in the room looked up at the foreign noise to see Sharis walking through the inn with the little Bosmer on her hip.

 

She looked beautiful. The air around her radiated with energy and warmth, a breath of fresh air from the cold harsh feel of the awkward ambience. She was wearing a green cotton dress she had borrowed from the inn keepers daughter. Her damp hair cascaded in waves down one of her shoulders, she was smiling at Noah as he was now looking ahead and smiling at Casavir. She turned her face to look at her loyal companion who sat patiently waiting for them to return from their bath.

The image before him froze for a second, and scorched into his memory. Seeing her this way, out of her mages gi and bits of armour, and out of the battle zones. She looked so ordinary, and yet, she shone brighter than anyone he had ever seen. His mind whizzed with thoughts of her living a normal life. A place to call home. Free from war, travelling, dragon's blood. It suited her. Imaging her carrying her children on her hip, walking around her little home, a round abdomen where a baby was waiting to be brought into the world. A man by her side-.

 _…. A man…_ the grand sensation within him shattered and fell into the depths of despair. What would she do when this was over? Would she marry? Who? Would she want children? Who would be their father? He felt like he'd taken another blow to the gut from another centurion. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, he quickly looked down. His hands were shaking. _Why do i do this to myself?_

 

“That bath was: amazing!” Sharis emphasised the word ‘amazing’. “Noah liked it too… especially the splashing water everywhere - AND popping bubbles.” She giggled, sitting Noah down on her lap as she sat on the chair beside Casavir. Her warm and amused face turned worried when she saw Casavir looking down at his hands, from what she could see of his face, he looked like he was in pain.

“Casavir? Are you OK?” He sat up immediately on the sound of his name, the pained expression disappeared as he blinked and turned calm and collected as always.

“Yes, my lady. Forgive me… I was just away in my thoughts.”

“Well what were you thinking about, to give you such a sad face? You looked like you just swallowed a hot coal!” She said, worry etched into her brow. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. What could he say? He couldn’t exactly say he got upset thinking of her happily married with children. He wanted her to be happy, above all else! He swallowed hard as his eyes looked around the floor for the answer. Her hand was on his, he hadn’t noticed it reaching out for him. _Shit. Help…?_

Stendarr, must have heard his plea, because as he thought it. The tavern door swung open and in came two women, bringing a gust of icy wind with them. One was crying and ranting hysterically while the other was trying to calm her down.

“Where is he! Where’s the priest?” She asked the innkeeper. He pulled himself off the bar with a jolt and looked around groggily, trying to catch his bearings. A man walked into the room,  wearing an orange temple robe, he pulled the yellow cowl back to expose his face.

“I’m here. What troubles you, my daughter?”

“Erandur. The dreams… they won’t stop!” The woman rushed over to the middle aged Dunmer. Reaching out to grab him. He held her steady, and sat her down on one of the stools at the bar.

“Irgnir, get a hold of yourself. They're just dreams!” the woman's friend tried to calm her.

“No. It's a curse! It has to be!  It's the same dream over and over. I... I’ve got to get out of this town!” the woman shook her head violently, tears threatening to burst their dams.

“I have them too! What if it's one of the mines? What if we awoke something?” another miner added.

“The mine?! Don’t be daft, we’ve been working those stupid rocks for years, and we haven’t dug up anything cooky… well not that I’m aware of…”

“Everyone please! I'm doing what I can to end these nightmares. All I ask of you all, is to be patient and put your trust in lady Mara.”

 

“... Nightmares? Oh for-! Are the Gods just pissing on us now?!” Sharis growled, but then froze, regretting her words. She cranked her head cautiously to Casavir who was staring at the priest. “Cas?”  
Casavir’s eyes honed in on the commotion before he looked at Sharis with a concerned yet serious expression. “Please, excuse me.” he said as he rose to his feet and walked over to the group surrounding the priest. He was calming them down and sent them away with a blessing of Mara. Casavir waited for them to depart before he approached.

“Forgive me, good sir. I couldn’t help but overhear the commotion. Might I ask, what that was about?” Casavir asked politely. The Dunmer looked up curiously at the tall stranger.

“Ah. Yes, well… The entire town is being plagued by horrible nightmares.” The priest replied, scratching the back of his neck.

“I see. It seems to be causing quite a conundrum.”

“Indeed it is!” The priest of Mara sighed. Casavir glanced over the short distance to Sharis who was now feeding Noah his mashed potato. If these dreams were affecting everyone. They could affect her... even Noah! No. He needed to find a way to help these people. If not for the townsfolk, then he would do it to protect Sharis and their little gurgling bundle.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Casavir. I am a Paladin of the divines.”

 

“A Paladin? Well, you sure are a rare sight. I am Erandur, priest of Mara. It's an honour to meet you.”

“The honour is all mine, sir. Please. Would you care to join us? I am very curious of these events, and I would like to know more about this ordeal.” Casavir gestured to their table where Sharis was sitting.

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” Erandur nodded. He appeared to be slight taken aback by the Paladin’s polite and unusually eloquent tongue.

“This is lady Sharis… She-”

“I’m his companion. And this is Noah.” She smiled bouncing Noah on her lap. Casavir understood her reason for butting in and remained silent.

“Delighted to meet you both. I am Erandur.” The Dunmer smiled as he accepted the chair Casavir pulled up to their table.

 

“You two are new around here. Are you hoping to make Dawnstar your home?” Erandur asked.

“No. We simply lost our map and we wandered our way in the wrong direction, and found ourselves here. We were heading for Whiterun.”

“Ah, I see. Well. The roads can be very confusing at times, especially with the war, and now Dragons.” Erandur sighed, smiling softly as he looked down at Noah, who was staring at the priest. Erandur frowned a little, glancing at Sharis and then at Casavir. She could see the cogs in his head trying to figure out how two Bretons could make a Bosmer. Casavir seemed unaware of the suspicious looks he was getting from the Dunmer priest, but Sharis was quick to correct him.

“He’s not ours.” She stated. “His mother died on the road, so we have kind of fostered him - if you will.”

“Oh.. well. That makes sense. May she find peace in the afterlife..” The Dunmer bowed his head, clearly feeling a little dim. “Tis a very kind thing you are doing for him. Mara, bless you both.” Sharis smiled as she looked over at Casavir. His cheeks starting to turn red, now he'd finally clicked. He cleared his throat quickly and adjusted his seating position.

 

“So, what can you tell us about these nightmares?” Casavir asked, hoping to change the subject.

“They're fairly new. I moved to this town last year and the nightmares came shortly after.” Erandur said, his expression darkened as he looking into his mug of tea. “I fear that these people are in serious danger, but, I’m afraid there’s little I can do about it.”

“In danger? Don't you think that's a little... extreme? I mean... How can dreams harm you?” Sharis remarked, she was trying to keep open minded with it, but Casavir could see the slight worry in her eyes.

“I understand how this must sound, but I truly believe these people are in danger.” he replied earnestly, keeping his voice low. A slither of worry snaked it's way up her back. Shit. What have they stepped into? She looked at the little Bosmer who was now nestling into Casavir’s shirt. Her eyes met Casavir’s as he looked at her with the same worried expression.

“What leads you to believe this?” Casavir asked. Stirring Noah to stop him from falling asleep. The man hesitated to respond, appearing unsure to say anymore.

 

“I… I don't want to frighten you.” His red elven eyes wouldn't look up to them as he responded.

“A bit late for that.” Sharis frowned.

“Please sir, we have a child with us, and no doubt the children of this town are suffering also.”

“I'm sorry to have caused you worry, but know that I am trying to fix this.”

“And how exactly are you doing that?” Sharis asked.

“Well…  I am going to the source. The old military Fort overlooking the town. The locals have come to call it ‘Nightcaller Temple’, I will stop these nightmares once and for all.”

“How do you know it's coming from there?” Sharis pushed.

“I’m sorry. I've already said too much. If someone was to hear this conversation, it would start a panic. Please, try and forget what I have said. Have faith in Lady Mara, and let me fix this bane. I'm sorry to have worried you.” He shook his head, rising from his seat. Anger flashed across Sharis’ face as she watched him cower away. She quickly grabbed his arm and forced him back down in his seat with a thud.

 

“Hold on. You can't just walk away and leave it like that. I have a baby to protect. There’s more to this, isn’t there?” She stared into the Dunmer’s shocked and rather vexed eyes, but the glimmer disappeared as he saw something powerful in her's. His eyes widened almost intimidated by her dominating glare.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance.” Casavir offered. Erandur’s and Sharis’ eyes shot over to the Paladin sat quietly. Sharis seemed repulsed, but Erandur seemed surprised. “You’re help would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.” He said.

“What?!” She growled. The room fell deathly silent with just the sound of the crackling fire in the centre of the room. Casavir opened his mouth to speak but Sharis was quicker.

“What do you mean? You're not going alone! What if something happened to you?!” She was ranting and had no idea where she was going with this. All she knew was that it was bad. This ‘Erandur’ hadn't exactly reassured her, and now Casavir was ready to go off and fight whatever the hell was causing these nightmares. Erandur sat awkwardly between the two, he looked like he was attempting to blend into the furniture. Casavir rose to his feet and walked round to offer his hand to Sharis.

“My lady, may we discuss this in private?” he asked. His voice was as smooth as melted chocolate. Sharis nodded and pulled herself up without the assistance of the Paladins outstretched hand.  
“Excuse us.” Sharis tried to be polite but she was too frustrated to care if it came across rude. She grabbed the Paladin by the arm and practically dragged him towards their room.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” She snapped angrily. “You can’t be seriously thinking of going up there with him.” she growled.

“Could I please ask you NOT to drag me around like that. That was very degrading.” Casavir asked (ordered) firmly, readjusting himself. “And yes. I would like to assist him to rid these people of these nightmares.”

“Why?! Cas, don't be a fool. He knows more than he's letting on. How do you know you can trust him?” She barked, slapping her hands on her hips. Wow... she felt like her mother...

“I understand that. I sense he is hiding something too. But I feel no evil in that man. I believe his intentions to be sincere.”

“But….” She began, but then scrunched her face up in frustration and groaned. “You know what? I wonder about your skills of perception sometimes - or lack of! Why do you have to go?!”

“Because I offered.”

“And what about me?!”

“Well… You can offer if you wish, but I would prefer it if I went.”

“Why? So I can sit here with Noah, like a good lil wifey? Perhaps you’d like a foot rub when you get back?!”

“Don't be absurd! My lady, please.”

 

“We’re flipping a coin.” She announced, pulling a gold coin from her pocket.

“We’re doing what?”

“Heads or tails.”

“Err...”

“Heads!” She shouted, flipping the coin in the air and catching it. She slapped in down on the back of her hand and lifted it to reveal it’s answer: Tails. SHIT. “Best outta three!” She flipped again: Heads, and again: Tails. Well, she couldn’t argue now. The fates had decided; Casavir was the one they had chose. She just didn't want him to go! She knew she couldn’t stop him, no matter how much she mimicked Noah’s tantrums. Exhausted from her bout of frustration she turned and went to sit on her bed, her eyes downcast to the ground.

She wanted to come too, but who would look after Noah? The innkeeper? No way! That man could barely stay awake, let alone look after a baby. Nightmares were normally the work of some demon or daedra. If that was the case, Casavir’s skills as a Paladin were perfect for the job. But still… She felt helpless, and she hated it! Worst part, was that she knew she couldn’t stop Casavir from going. It was his choice. She heard Casavir’s strong and firm strides approach, the bed beside her creaked as it adjusted itself to hold more weight.

“My lady…?” His voice was soft and warm, filling the air with enrichment from his voice. His large hand reached for hers and held it tightly. The sudden unexpected touch shook every nerve in her body. She didn’t want to look at him, but his smooth strong voice begged her. Despite this, she kept her eyes averted to the floor.

“I'm sorry that I have thrust this upon us. But I feel a need to protect these people… and protect you." His grip grew tighter as his voice fell low as it became weighted down with tenderness. She couldn't help but feel flattered at his desire to keep her safe. It didn't feel like a housecarl that took their job too seriously, or an overprotective companion. It was more than that.

Noah, began to burble on Casavir's lap, reaching over for Sharis and patting her arm to attract her attention. She couldn't help but look up at the little Bosmer, his eyes filled with curiosity at her current state. She smiled, reaching out to hold his hand. "Both of you..." Casavir added. She finally looked up at him. Her heart swelled as she stared into his soft, flint blue eyes. She became lost in them for a moment. His rich and strong voice sounded so alluring as he spoke. A part of her felt betrayed, but she knew this was just a quick mission to help the town. He would be back at her side when they were ready to leave for Whiterun.

_But what if something was to happen to him?_

_What if  ‘Erandur’ failed to protect him?_

No. She knew Casavir was strong. He was one of the strongest and formidable men she had ever known, and she was so proud to have him by her side. He could take care of himself - she knew this. But that didn’t stop her from worrying. She looked down at their hands, her fingers clasping his tighter. Savoring the moment a little longer before she voiced her consent.

 

“OK.” She sighed. “You have until morning. If you’re not back by first light, I’m coming after you.” She quickly added. The skin crinkled in the outer corners of his eyes as he smile, a low rumbling laugh vibrated in his chest.

“I shall be back by morning. You have my word.” He bowed his head, pulling her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. His moist lips left a tingling caress on her skin. She waned a soft smile and reached for Noah as Casavir went to reapply his armour. Once he was geared up, and his sword was strapped to his back he turned to Sharis, who was watching him from the bed.

“I guess we’ll see you in the morning.” She sighed, glancing down at the little tot, who was playing with a wooden spoon and dish. “Be careful.”

“Always, my lady.” he bowed his head and stared at her for a little while. He didn't know what to do, does he say goodbye? No, that felt like he wasn't coming back. His lips tingled with the need to kiss her skin again, her hand, her cheek… her lips. _Oh Mara, forgive me_. He thought, quickly dismissing that idea. He pulled his lips in and pressed them together momentarily as he bowed again.

“Until dawn, lady Sharis.” With that, he swiftly left the room, to collect Erandur and to save the town from this horror.

 

_____________

 

Hey guys!

Firstly, I’m really sorry about the delay in my chapter. When I say shit has been crazy… I ain’t exaggerating.  
I have relocated myself to a new (bigger and busier) city to move in with my real life Paladin, left my current job (which was heartbreaking), and I’m in the process of startling all over again in my new city with a new job.

Emotions have been running wild here, so if this chapter seems odd, I apologise. It has been hard to focus lately, as you can see. *points up*

Anyway! Hope you guys at least get some enjoyment from it.


	30. Side quest

“My lady? There's something I wish to discuss with you. If I may?” Casavir asked when they were having a walk around the town. The afternoon sun was shining, and the clouds had parted to gift Dawnstar with a rather pleasant afternoon. After Casavir had returned from the tower, there was no more talk of nightmares. The town seemed more alive, vibrant. People were amazed that they had slept through the night, without a whisper of night terrors. They were fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. 

“What is it?” She asked. Raising a curious brow as she turned her face to look up at him. 

“... Remember when you told me about Septimus? How he wished to use the scroll to open that… unusual box of his?” Casavir tried to refresh her memory. Her feet slowed as she stared ahead, her lips slowly pursing. “What about it?” 

“May I ask what your plans are on the matter? I understand you were quite concerned with his intentions.”

 

“... I don't know… but we can’t take Noah through Winterhold’s ice land, he’s too small! The Pale is cold enough, especially for a little Bosmer! Septimus will just have to wait.” She looked down at the toddler that was perched in her arms, wearing a fur hooded gown and fur mittens. His big brown eyes engrossed with watching the boats at the docks. 

“Of course. I wouldn't dream of taking him through that barren land. However, Erandur offered his services to us, and it got me thinking…”

“About…?” 

“What if I were to take the scroll to Septimus…?” Casavir felt Sharis pull at his arm as she ground to a stop. An expression on her face was unreadable at first, but then it turned into a hopeful smirk. 

 

“You're joking... Right?” She asked. 

“Not at all. I thought it would be better do it now, while we are still relatively close to the college, rather than turning back on ourselves, later.” 

“No… You… You just pissed off on a errand up at the temple. And now you’re talking about going across Skyrim?!” She snapped angrily.

“I’m not! I was just…” Casavir suddenly noticed the millions of eyes from the locals on them and he felt so uncomfortable. He wasn't one for public arguments. He always prefered to keep debates low and calm, not disruptive.  He could see the hurt in her eyes quickly shifting to a look of animosity. Before she could open her mouth again, he reached for her hand that pulled at his arm.

 

“My lady… Please. Can we not argue?” He pleaded in a soft tone. He gestured to a bench that was hooded under by the merchants docking posts. 

 

She bit her lip and nodded, tempering her emotions. She sat down with Noah on her lap, Casavir sat beside her and together they watched the world go by. Sailors heaving their goods off and on their boats. Fishermen bringing in their catch of the day. Merchants buying goods and selling their wares. Locals walking around, buying the ingredients for their supper. She looked over at Casavir, his face forever held a strong authoritative expression, but it melted away when he looked at her. He was watching two merchants bartering loudly over their wares. His hands rested on each knee as he sat up straight, his body trained by his armour to forever hold an alert and vigilant position. 

 

“My lady?” His deep rich voice woke her from her thoughts. His striking flint blue eyes turned to look at her. “I'm sorry… It was only a suggestion. I was thinking about the time we have, and the convenience of being so close to the College. Erandur commented about it being a ‘coincidence’ that we happened upon this town. I thought, perhaps we could use our error to our advantage.”

“I know… It’s just…” Sharis said, reaching for his gloved hand. He turned to look at her, examining her face as her voice was strained, like she was going to cry. She did feel the urge, but she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can’t protect you when you’re not with me. Nightcaller Temple was different… But Winterhold is such a long way… I can’t… I keep thinking about if something happened… I…!” 

 

She stopped herself, the lump in her throat threatened to burst if she spoke anymore. Gods be damned girl, get a grip! She swallowed hard and looked down at little Noah who was burbling on her lap, he looked up at her and then at Casavir. 

“Then I shall stay. I would never do anything without your consent, my lady.” He replied, turning himself on the bench when he saw Noah reaching for him. He picked Noah off Sharis' lap and set him down on his with a soft smile. Sharis was silent for a while, watching him entertain Noah as she sat in deep thought. 

 

“I'm going to do some shopping. Why don’t you take Noah inside, it’s time for his nap.” She said, getting up from the bench. 

“You don’t want me to come with you?” Casavir asked, looking up at her curiously. 

She shook her head and gave him a sweet smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m only looking around the market stalls.” 

“... Very well. As you wish, my lady.” Casavir bowed his head and rose to his feet, Noah roosted on his arm with his head resting on Casavir’s shoulder. Her eyes softened as she reached up to stroke the soft pudge that was Noah’s cheek. Her eyes were glazed over as though something was vexing her. She held it at bay when she saw Casavir inquisitively examining her face. She held fast, holding her gaze at him as he stared too; but after a few moments, Casavir gave in. He bowed his head and proceeded to walk himself back to the inn for Noah’s nap. 

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Noah was sleeping soundly in this town, clearly, Noah was not one for a traveler's life. Obviously not… he was a baby! He should be safe behind walls, a place to eat and  play, his own bed, and a family who could keep him safe and happy. 

He shouldn't be sleeping in a silly lidless box, in an inn. He should have a home, a family. What a silly thing to say, to offer to abandon him, just to give Septimus his silly metal toys. Their first priority was Noah, then the scroll. Then Septimus. 

He felt awful, foolish. His silly ideas had clearly upset Sharis. She wasn't back yet, and to be honest… he felt rather abandoned. It was normally an activity they did together. 'Market browsing'. He liked looking through the markets with her, of course, not when she would take forever browsing the goods at one stall and spend twice as long at another. And she would most likely get things she didn't need. But he enjoyed the contentment on her face, being able to kick back and forget her worries for a while as she merged with 'normal life' as she called it. 

 

Bah! What was normal, in this day and age? 

 

He sat his mug of tea down on the bedside and laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The soft snores of little Noah comforted him as he wandered into deep thought. 

Never in his life did he think he would ever have this. Travelling on the roads of Skyrim, miles and miles away from the place he once called home. Wielding a sword that fought for the grace of the divines. The Paladin emblem seared into his chest, and the honour of fighting alongside the legendary warrior, with the heart, blood and soul of a dragon. 

 

His eyes opened when he heard the creak and soft thump of the door. There stood Sharis, swinging her cloak off her shoulders and hanging it over a nearby chair in one single movement. Her eyes were fixed on the ground for a moment. He sat up and proceeded to swing his feet round to climb off the bed, but her striking emerald and gold eyes shot their gaze up to him, leaving him rather subdued. 

Their eyes locked onto one another for a while, neither knew what to say. Or even do. She just stood there... frozen in place like her body had shut down and was stuck on factory reset. He slowly rose from his seat on the bed, his eyes still locked on her, worry began to creep in as to why she was acting so strange. 

 

“My lady? Is everything alright?” His rich baritone voice seemed to thaw her as she blinked and swallowed hard, finally beginning to move. Her hand rested on a satchel hanging on her shoulder, it seemed to be fully stocked with supplies. 

“I was… I thought about what you said. About leaving for Winterhold. I think you’re right.” she averted her eyes to the floor where Casavir stood, working their way back up to his flint blue gems. “We should try and make things easier for ourselves, and since we are pretty close to Winterhold, it does sound reasonable for us to head straight there. But… obviously, with Noah, one of us will have to go.” 

“One of us?” Casavir questioned. She nodded and pulled a coin from her back pocket and laid it on her curled index finger with her thumb poised to fire it into the air. 

“Heads or tails?” She smiled weakly. He didn’t reply, but instead remained silent. “Tails” She shrugged, flipping the coin and bracing to catch it, but the stupid thing bounced from her grasp and rolled on the floor. Casavir watched as it rolled towards him but he did not move as it hit his boot and fell on it’s side. Heads. 

 

He smirked a little when he heard Sharis growl in annoyance and make her way over. He knelt down to pick up the coin and looked up to see Sharis stood over him. By Gods holy grace, she was beautiful. Even with the frustration furrowing her brows, her eyes were fierce and strong, she was beautiful. Yet, there was a sadness that lingered in them, and it pained him to see it. They had come far from where they once began their journey, he no longer felt like the man that walked off the boat at Solitude docks almost a year ago. Had it really been a year? 

 

He rose to his feet, eyeing the winning side as he held it out for her with a warm smile on his face. She reached for his hand and clasped it tightly, almost forgetting the coin sandwiched between their hands. 

 

“I want you back within a fortnight. Can you manage that?” she said firmly. His smile fell as he registered her consent to his proposal, he nodded earnestly. 

“... Yes, my lady.”

“Good.” she nodded. “when do you plan on leaving?”

“Uh... first light, would probably be the safest option. I also need to speak with Erandur, to inform him that I've accepted his offer.” Casavir replied. 

“Already taken care of. He's agreed to watch your back. He'll be coming down soon to speak with you about it.” She commented quickly. There was a moment of silence between them, before she looked away and unhooked the bag from her shoulder. 

 

“I… got you a gift. I thought you might need another one, since you’ll be needing to carry your new supplies.” She held out the bag for him to take. He accepted it quickly, as he saw the strain of holding up a fully stocked supply back weighing on her arm. He examined it with a puzzled expression. He didn’t know why he was surprised that she had bought him another bag. It was even the exact bag he had spotted on the stall when they passed earlier that day. 

 

“Erandur should be here soon. You should go wait for him.” she said as she went to tend to Noah, who was beginning to stir in his bed. Her hand slipped from Casavir's, along with a tearing sensation that felt like a part of him was pulled from within. His soul cried with pain as it did, but the only symptoms his body showed was the yearnful look in his eyes as they followed her to the cot. 

“Yes.” He mumbled almost as if it was to himself. “Thank you, my lady.” He bowed his head and headed for the door before she could turn and see the hurt in his eyes. He turned quickly out the door and sat himself on the nearest stool at the bar, looking down at his hands. 

 

So. He was going to travel to Winterhold, without her. Damn it. Now, he didn’t want to go! 

 

It had all seemed logical in his mind, but now watching it all set into place, he was suddenly unenthusiastic about the whole thing. He had travelled by her side for so long, it almost felt treasonous in thinking of their future parting, and the journey ahead as their paths began to split. He Sighed, running a hand through his hair and applied pressure to the nape of his neck to sooth himself. 

This was for the best, he told himself. It was in bad taste to suddenly change his mind on the matter. It was, of course, his idea in the first place. His chest tightened and his stomach turned uncomfortably when he thought of leaving her here, leaving Noah. They were like family to him, an illusion in his mind of being part of something greater. Fuck. That's not good. No this was for the best. He was a Paladin, a sword of justice and light, to vanquish foes and uphold the righteous. He shouldn't be thinking of Sharis in such a way… But he was. 

 

“Why the long face, Handsome?” A woman’s voice woke him from his thoughts. Karita, the innkeeper's daughter, was leaning across the bar with a coy smile on her face. Her revealing dress exposing a little too much cleavage as she bent over the bar to get closer to the knight.

“A snowberry tea, please.” Casavir ignored the attempted seduction of the eager bar maid. She sighed pouting her lips and walked away to get him what he asked for. Not long after she returned with his tea. "On the house, hero." She winked before walking away to serve more customers. 

 

Hero... Ha! There would have been a time when he would have been filled with pride for being called 'hero'. But now... it did nothing. He was too disheartened to hear take such a compliment, or even the sultry tone in Karita's voice. He didn't even feel like drinking, the tea in his mug felt like it would be bland on his palette. His ears pricked up to the sound of the door open. He peered over his shoulder and in walked Erandur, his eyes set on Casavir to moment he walked in, he made his way over with a calm yet ambitious grin on his face as he crosses the room. 

 

Well, here we go….

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  


“Do you have everything?” Sharis asked as she walked with Casavir towards the gates where Erandur was waiting patiently. 

“Yes, my lady.” Casavir nodded, his eyes averted to the ground, his steps slow and somewhat apprehensive. He wanted to stall this short walk to the gates as much as possible. His chest felt tight, and each footstep that brought them closer to the point of departure made him feel rather disorientated. 

 

“Casavir?” A familiar voice made him turn suddenly to it’s source: Sharis. 

“Yes, my lady?” He replied a little too eager and sudden. She frowned.

“You know… you don’t have to go. We can just forget about this and once we’ve found a home for Noah, we can go together.” Sharis suggested. Her eyes were full of concern, no doubt she had detected the apprehension in his steps. Clearly. Casavir’s tall frame meant he could cover great lengths with little effort, he would often have to slow himself to keep in pace with Sharis. But now, Sharis was the one ahead of him. 

“I feel that would not be fair on Erandur. The poor soul was most eager when we spoke last night.” Casavir gave her a brave smile as he gestured to the Dunmer monk that was now adorned his Monk robes with leather armour. She sighed and nodded “I suppose so.” 

 

They walked in silence the rest of the way, his hand itching to grab hers, but Noah, who was straddled on her hip, was making that idea difficult. When they reached Erandur, the priest turned to them with a smile and bowed his head. 

 

“Good morning, Brother Erandur.” Casavir greeted him. 

“Good morning. Casavir, and lady Sharis - and Noah.” He smiled. She nodded her head but her face remained hard. For some reason she had disdain for this man, she wasn't sure, but something told her that her distaste for the man seeded from the idea of him 'stealing' away her companion. Well - sort of stealing. Could she really  categorise it as ‘stealing’? Casavir wasn’t hers. Erandur had earned her respect, but not her trust. He would gain that when he returned with her companion. Safe and sound. 

“It looks like it will be a fine day, perfect for a start of our travelling. I am ready when you are.” Erandur smiled. With that, a wave of icy chill washed over Casavir, an invisible force began to  weigh on his shoulders. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, digging his nails into the leather of his belt to subtly relieve some tension. He wasn’t ready, he’d never be ready to leave her side. 

“....yes. Could I just have a moment please?” He asked. Erandur nodded, and Casavir stepped back and looked at the Dragonborn. “My lady?”

 

She turned to him, clutching the little Bosmer at her side. There she was. His fair lady. He took a moment to capture the image while he could. This image would be his to hold, until he returned. He didn’t know what to say, but his chest was growing tighter and tighter the more he thought of turning away and going across Skyrim without her. 

 

For Gods sake boy! It’s two sodding weeks! Get a hold of yourself! 

 

Yes. Two weeks. Two weeks without her. Two weeks without waking in the morning and seeing her sat by their campfire. Two weeks without waking up and seeing her sleeping soundly in her bed across from him. Two weeks without the sound of her voice, her laugh. Without her warm embraces, and their conversations that would sometimes lead long into the night, sometimes they wouldn't even need to speak, they would just sit quietly in the comfort of one another. 

 

Of for the love of Akatosh, why did he suggest this?

 

“You sure you’re up for this?” Sharis asked, noticing the dour look that was seeping from his aura. He waned a reassuring smile and bowed his head. Even if he wanted to call it off - it was too late. He couldn’t let everyone down now. 

“Yes, my lady.” He bowed nodded his head, though his voice betrayed him. His eyes turned to Noah who was looking up at him with those big magical brown eyes, his hand reached out for the Bosmers as it reached out for him. His small fingers curled around his, the soft skin met with rough leather and hard steel hand guards. Casavir's heart sank, he didn't want this. He pulled his hand away and pulled off his gauntlet before returning to the little Bosmer. The silence rolled on for a while longer, simply savouring these last moments before he would leave. 

“You don’t seem too enthusiastic.” Butterflies danced in her stomach when she heard the deep, timid, laugh he gauged when he was a little shy. She smiled, hoping he would confess he changed his mind and they could all go back to the inn together. Erandur too!  

 

“I am simply concerned about how you will fare. Will you be alright?” Casavir’s voice split the silence. She smiled and nodded, though he could sense it was a brave smile.

“Don't worry about us.” she answered. His eyes met hers, they were calm as always, but  also seeded with a deep yearning. Moments past and she finally realised they were staring at one another. She ripped her eyes away and looked at his hand that was being gripped by little fingers. Her heart racing, yet it ached at the same time, it was almost the same look he gave her when they fell into the Falmers trap in Blackreach. 

“My lady?” Casavir’s rich baritone voice tickled her senses. 

“Yeah?”

 

“Would you… mind taking care of this while I'm gone?” he let go of Noah’s hand and pulled the necklace from around his neck. She stared for a moment at the caged sapphire pendant gracefully swinging to and fro in front of her. A part of her wanted to say no; but I bigger part of her was demanding she accepted. She knew that she'd miss him, she knew that she'd be lost without him, at least now she could have him close to her heart; but it wasn't just that. The icy glacial land of Winterhold was deadly enough, but he would be travelling over the sea of ghosts too! If anything happened to him, she would had nothing. She would loose him forever, with not a scrap of anything to know he was real, he existed, a physical reminder that he was with her. 

 

No. She shouldn't think like that! She banished away the horrible thoughts and nodded, focusing on the knowing that Casavir would return, if not for her, then for his necklace. 

 

Her body filled with a warm fuzziness as she saw him smile softly down at her. She bowed her head and allowed him to loop it over her head. The metal chain on her neck felt warm, and the pendant fell against the cotton tunic on her chest. Her attention was immediately brought to the feeling of skin brushing against the nape of her neck. Rough like leather, yet it moved gently along her skin. Her thundering  heart almost came to a grinding halt at that moment. The woman inside her purred in delight, as the sensation sent sparks of energy through every nerve in her body, but it quickly dissipated when he pulled his hand away. 

 

She looked up at him again, heat ablaze in her cheeks and also in his. His eyes refusing to meet hers, an expression of slight embarrassment on his face. Was it embarrassment? She couldn't tell. The gap between then was closing, now only inches away. He hadn't stepped back after placing his necklace on her, he was now stood as though he was anticipating something, building himself up to something he was about to do. Or something he was afraid to do. 

 

“Be careful.”

“Always.” He nodded. There was a long silence, neither knowing what to say but neither brave enough to walk away. The gap between them was almost gone, his hands fidgeting at his sides. She could hear the hard swallow in his throat as he pulled his bottom lip in to bite down on. He always did that when he was holding back on something. He was adorable… absolutely adorable. 

 

Sharis couldn't hold back any longer. Her arms ached to hold her brave Paladin, and her lips tingled to taste him. She raised her arm and reached for his shoulders, his eyes immediately looked at her and leant down to give her easy access. He looked relieved as she swung her arm around his neck and pushed her cheek against his. Where ever where else was guarded with hard steel, his face and a fraction of his neck was exposed, and it was her sacred spot where she could break through to the man behind it all. His skin was warm, his clean shaved face felt almost like smooth polished stone, yet it was warm and it moulded against her cheek. His warm, clean smell, intertwined with leather and the oil he used to clean his armour made her breathe a long and heavy sigh. She'd miss that smell. She scrunched her eyes shut to hone all her senses onto just smell and touch, his arms now were wrapped around her and squeezed her gently, yet she was only pressed against cold armour. She nuzzled her face into him and cooed softly. 

 

“Hurry back, please.” She whispered, her steamy clouds of breath caressed his skin. With it, his arms around her gripped tighter as she felt his head move, as though trying to nuzzle into her. 

“Yes, my lady.” His voice vibrated against her cheek. Noah, stirred on her hip, sadly breaking the tender moment with her Paladin. His big brown eyes staring curiously at them. Casavir smiled back at the little Bosmer and leant down, planting a soft kiss on Noah’s forehead. A warm feeling filled her. Watching how paternal he had become, how he always was so affectionate and kind to children, even if they were rude at times. He stood up straight, smiling warmly at the little Bosmer before turning to Sharis once again. 

“Two weeks.” She dipped her head, her eyes fixed on Casavir’s. 

“Two weeks.” He bowed.

 

Moments passed again, until Casavir took a deep breath and bowed. He then spun on his heel and quickly marched away to collect Erandur who was waiting patiently on the road, and off they went. 

He felt foolish, he hadn’t even said goodbye! How rude of me, he thought. 

As much as he wanted to correct himself, he didn’t dare turn back, he didn't even dare look back. No matter how much it burrowed in his mind. He knew that if he looked back, to see Sharis, watching him walk away while she held a little baby on her hip, there would be no journey to Winterhold. 

 

He forced himself onward, pushing himself through every movement, every step was difficult. Almost like he was walking through tar. He had to keep going; he knew if he looked back, he’d drop everything. Run all the way back to his fair lady, sweep her into his arms and carry her off to the inn, and forget about this whole thing.

He felt strange, somewhat lost. An emptiness loomed within him. He could still see her beautiful emerald eyes, her big breath taking smile that forever made his soul take flight. Her laugh still sang to him. 

 

By Mara’s mercy, please, let me keep these memories of her. Let me return to her.

 

“Do you want me to take the first watch?” Erandur’s voice ripped him away from his thoughts. He looked over to Erandur, who was sat opposite him, coaxing the flames of their little fire. It took a while for Casavir to process the question. What did he say? Watch what? 

“Casavir?” Erandur asked, turning his full attention to the Paladin who just sat there, appearing to still be waking up from a long trance like state. 

“Um… I’m sorry, I…. W- would you mind repeating what you said, please?” Casavir frowned, annoyed with himself, and slightly annoyed he’d been pulled away from his thoughts of Sharis. Erandur looked concerned, but he nodded. 

“Would you like me to take first watch?” He asked again. 

“Oh, no. That’s alright, I shall take the first watch.” Casavir answered, finally adjusting to his surroundings. He tried to ignore the eyes that were fixed on him, but it was nearly impossible. What was worse, was that he knew the reason Erandur was staring at him. 

 

“Casavir. Might I ask what is troubling you?” Erandur’s concerned query made Casavir’s posture stiffen. He swallowed hard, almost grinding his teeth as he tried to think of the reason why. But there was only one explanation, and something in Erandurs expression gave out the feel that he already knew the answer. 

“Forgive me.” Casavir cleared his throat. “I’m not normally like this. I… I will admit, I have been rather lost in my thoughts. It’s just… well.”

“You miss her?” Casavir’s eyes shot up to meet the red Elven eye’s of Erandur. He was about to deny it, but then that would be a lie. He simply looked at his hands and silently accepted it. He did miss her. Of course he missed her. He sighed heavily and played with the whetstone in his hand, it was easier to talk when he was busy doing something. 

“We have been travelling together for quite a long time. And now, being apart, feels rather alien to me. I suppose I grew accustomed to her company, I now feel rather…” he struggled to find the word to finish the sentence, unsure of how he was feeling. 

“... Lost.” Erandur offered him the perfect word to his emotions. It fit perfectly. Grinding the whetstone against the edge of Casavir’s sword to a halt.  The word may have struck all the right cords, and somewhat comforted him, but it still did not release the pain. He glanced over at the Elven priest who smile kindly at Casavir, and began to place twigs on the fire. Guilt washed over the Paladin. He was not coming off well, he shouldn't be expressing how much he missed his lady, when he was travelling with him. 

  
  


“I’m sorry Erandur, This is probably not what you were expecting on your travels with me.” Casavir tried to apologise, but was surprised when Erandur simply laughed. 

“On the contrary. This is exactly what I was expecting.” he replied with a smooth tone to his voice. Casavir remained silently curiously wondering what he was talking about. Then Erandur began to explain. “Lady Sharis, came to me in the temple. She told me of your plan, and she also warned me: if I was to let anything to happen to you; well, let’s just say I would be wiped off the face of Nirn.” 

Sharis?!  Casavir's jaw almost hit the fresh fallen snow at his feet. He knew Sharis was could be dauntless, but to threaten a priest of the holy gods?! A part of him was flattered, and another part was greatly appalled. “I'm very sorry, Erandur. Lady Sharis has a kind heart, but she can be…  I will speak with her when we return to Dawnstar.” Casavir replied earnestly, but once again, Erandur just chuckled to himself and shook his head. 

 

“No need, dear boy. I understand why she was so fierce. You mean a great deal to her, enough for her to threaten a priest of Mara, and enough to allow you both to part. And it is clear, by the way I have seen you converse with one another, the way you speak of her. That she means a great deal to you too.” 

Unable to speak, unable to lie, Casavir nods lowly. There was no use in denying it, talking to Erandur was like talking to an old friend, like speaking to Hlam, the old priest who brought him to the light of the divines. 

 

The winds were strong and the flames of their little fire stood no chance against it. No matter how much Erandur tried to bring it to life, the winds were too much. It was then that Casavir looked up and saw something in the distance, a tower, reaching high out from the snow. 

  
  


“Erandur. Surely that is not Nightcaller temple.” he pointed. Erandur frowned, curious as to what it was. 

“No. I do believe that is Frostflow Lighthouse. A couple live there, Ramti and Habd. They bought the place a while back, said they wanted to start a new life here with their children. I wonder how they are doing?” 

“Do you think they would give us shelter for the night?” Casavir asked, quietly deliberating in his mind whether it was worth staying out in the cold wind with a small fire that was playing stubborn. 

“Probably. Habd is a very humble man, and his wife is a lovely lady. I can’t see them turning us away, especially at this hour.”

“Let's pray that they don’t. Perhaps we could trade the Wolf meat as lodgings for the night.” Casavir thought aloud. Looking at the fresh kill by their camp. Erandur nodded, and with that, they collected their things and made the short trip to the lighthouse, just in time, as night was upon them.

 

“Hello?” Erandur knocked on the door. “it's me, Erandur. Are you in there? Hello?” they waited, but no one replied. Erandur knocked again and they waited a little longer, but then Casavir spotted a small shack against the lighthouse.

“I’ll check over there.” Casavir announced as he went of to the small building connected to the tower. When he turned the corner, he was greeted with a horse. Dead. Partially frozen, but from the looks of the poor thing, it had not died from the cold. It was badly malnourished and was in the first stages of decomposition. Worry washed over him and slithered through him, something was wrong. He spun on his heel and headed back to erandur, sharing his discovery. Erandur looked just as worried and Casavir (even more so), as he turned to try and open the door. Locked. 

 

Casavir placed a hand on the Priest’s shoulder to kindly gesture him to the side. “Hello. If you’re in there, please step away from the door. We’re coming in.” Casavir shouted loud enough for them to hear on the other side.    
  


“Do you know how to pick a lock?” Erandur asked, eyeing the Paladin for a moment. 

“I’m afraid not. But I can bash down doors.” Casavir replied. With that, Erandur stood clear as Casavir proceeded to repeatedly kick at the door’s lock. After a five strong kicks, the door flew open, and a familiar stench escaped the lighthouse. 

“Erandur would you light my torch, please?” Casavir asked as he pulled his torch from his back. Erandur nodded and used his ancestral ability with fire to light the torch before they entered. From the smell of the room, Casavir had a horrible feeling what was going to be in here. The moment the light of the torch broke into the room, the massacre around them made itself know. 

Blood was everywhere, furniture broken, bottles smashed; and a body lay in the centre of the room.

 

“Oh good God's!” gasped the priest, Casavir knelt down to examine the corpse of a woman. Redguard from what he could tell, mid thirties? It was hard to say, but it must have been the lighthouse masters wife. Something protruded from her chest, a weapon of some sort. It triggered a memory of Blackreach, it's primitive structure of use of alien like bone materials. It was then that they both noticed the large bug-like creature in the corner. Also dead. 

 

"Falmer." Casavir muttered. 

"What?"

“Check the rooms, see what you can find.” Casavir said as he stood up and pulled his sword from his back. “Be careful.”

 

They checked the rooms, but there was not a trace of anymore vile creatures - or the lighthouse residents. The doors either side of the hall were locked too. Casavir didn’t really want to go kicking down anymore doors encase those Falmer and their vermin-lice-pets came scurrying after. He remembered well what the Falmer were capable of. If he learnt anything from those Dwemer ruins, it was to take extra care when dealing with the Falmer. They remained quiet as possible as they lit the fire at the hearth and found some rags to wrap around the wife’s body. 

 

“I think I found something.” Erandur announced. Running over as he flipped through the pages of a journal he found by the body, it appeared to be Habd’s journal. It stated how he had gone to the town to buy traps because his daughter was complaining about hearing noises. The next, and last, instalment in the journal was scribbled in, almost as if done in a hurry. It was something about: When the husband had returned from town he found his wife dead and the creature over in the corner was feasting on her. That explains the missing leg, Casavir thought. 

 

“This is horrible!” Erandur exclaimed. “I remember Habd coming into town for those traps… but, but that was months ago!” 

Casavir stood silent, taking in all the evidence around him and coming to a conclusion. What was their next move? He sighed, knowing it would not sit well with him if he were to walk away from this. He knew it was not to be a happy ending, not with all the evidence stacked up already - but he couldn’t leave it like this. 

“It says here, that he locked the door behind him. Perhaps they have a spare key somewhere?” 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Oh, c’mon lass! Lemme buy you a drink.” the Nord begged as he hugged the bar next to Sharis. She gritted her teeth and clenched her jaw tight. Her fist was itching to crudely dart out and sock the man for pestering her all afternoon; but she had to think of the outcomes. He may have been short, about the same height as her; but he looked tough as old boots. He looked like he was no greenie when it came to a fight; but his deep brown eyes still had a soft touch to them. 

 

He had come straight off the boat that day, she'd seen him staring at her as she walked the docks with Noah. Then he had hounded her all day, trying to make a conversation with her. She wasn't interested, and she was sick of being hit on by these goons. But this guy. Everywhere she went, he was there. She’d already snapped at him, but that didn’t seem to do much good. 

 

His friends were watching his sad attempt to woo her, and she felt kinda bad. He didn’t look like a hungry sailor looking for a woman before he returned to sea. The opposite actually, more like he was genuinely interested.  

 

“Look, Khelgar... is it?”

“Aye it is lass!” The man grinned proudly. 

“Khelgar. You seem like a nice guy, but -”

“I am a nice guy! I only wanna buy you a drink n have a chat lass. What’s the harm in tha’?! C’mon. Just one?” His deep rasping voice boomed into a eager laugh, almost overjoyed they were finally having a conversation. 

“I can't drink!” she replied with all the sweetness she could muster at that time (which was verging on none). 

“Sure you can?” He laughed.

 

“No. I can’t. I have responsibilities.” She tutted. Bouncing Noah on her hip. He looked at the baby, then back at her, the same confused expression on his face as he tried to work out the science behind a Breton birthing a Bosmer. Then he smiled. 

“It don’t ‘av to be alcoholic, lass.” He guffawed. “You can av a tea and i’ll do the booze drinkin’ for us both.” Khelgar grinned. She was actually shocked now. He wasn't trying to get her drunk? Well, that was a first. But when she thought about it, he didn't come across as a lech, looking for a woman to bed.    
  


She gave in and finally accepted his offer, the man smiled wide, and loudly called to Thoring for them to be served. She asked for  snowberry tea before she went to sit down at an empty table that was surrounded by the locals she had grown to know. Noah, sat on fur rug at her feet, playing with the doll she had bought for him. 

 

“He’s a bonnie lil babe. What's his name?” Khelgar asked. 

“Noah.” 

“Cute name. You lookin after ‘im til his ma and pa are back from hunting or sumthin?”    
  


“They're dead.” She answered swiftly. The conversation halted as he stared blankly at her, his mug of mead stuck in mid ascent as his mind rebooted itself. “Well… Shit.” he spoke. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yep.” She sighed. “It was just the mother, she died on the road. So We’ve kind of fostered him, we’re looking for a family to take him in."

“We?” 

“Me and my companion. He’s away at the moment, so I’m waiting here til he comes back?” She explained. The man shifted awkwardly in his seat, his face screwing up to mask the disappointment that she wasn't alone. 

 

“Well, I hope you find him a family. So, is your companion a ‘travelling’ companion, or a ‘companion’ companion?” She thought for a moment, pondering on the thought of what to say next. Casavir was a companion, they travelled together, fought together, ate and drank together, shared thoughts and ideas. Hells, they'd even (sorta) shared a bed together. She knew what the man was thinking, and yes, she secretly wished Casavir was her ‘companion’ as the man had put it. She smiled and leant back in her chair. 

 

“Both.” She replied. Taking a sip of same thing she had been drinking for the past week. Snowberry tea; or Casavir’s tea, as she had self-proclaimed it. Every time she tasted it sweet warm juice, she remembered the man she was waiting to come back to her. His striking blue eyes that brimmed with kindness and warmth, his raven black hair that was thick and velvety, begging for her to comb her fingers through it’s length. 

When she tasted the soft bitter aftertaste, she remembered the harsh reality of their situation. Their relationship. How this should not be the way she should be feeling. She should be growing impatient for him to return, so they can get on the road again. Not pining for him and worrying for his safety. Staring out at the ice hills, waiting for Casavir to appear because her heart was growing weaker every day she didn’t see his face. Or hear his voice. 

 

“He’s a lucky guy. Travelling with such a bonnie lass. Ha! Ain’t gonna lie - I’m a lil jealous.” The man smiled, accepting defeat. She smiled, pleased that she had been able to weave her way through his choice of words to make him think she was unavailable. 

“Thank you.” She said. “So. I saw you guys come off the boat. You staying here long?” She asked.  

 

“I pissin’ well hope so! I’m so glad to get off tha’ stinkin boat. I like to keep my feet firmly on land, ye see. But my brother would av a hard time keepin’ his crew in shape if it weren't for me!” The man roared a laugh as he looked over his shoulder at the table filled with his sailor pals. 

“You don’t like sailing?” She asked.

“Nah! The sea ain’t one for me. But, like I said, my brother would be lost without me. He’s the captain ye see. We took over after our ol’ man popped his clogs and left us the business. My brother runs the whole, paper signing and fancy crap, and I deal with the sea dogs.” He said, popping his knuckles with a wicked grin. 

 

She couldn’t help but smile at his lovable roguish nature. The night went on and she started to let her walls down, their conversations were light hearted and jokes were abundantly falling out of the Khelgar's mouth. She was actually enjoying his company, and now she felt bad that she’d been so rude to him. He was sweet, coltish and rough with the clamor to match that of a giant; but sweet all the same.    
  


“Ey lass? Thanks for keepin me company tonight.”

“No problem.” She smiled, helping Noah stand when he used her supportive hands to pull himself to his feet. He was beginning to stand now, a week gone and he was already advancing out of baby stage and into a toddler. 

“I’m sorry I was rude before. I’ve been getting allot of people hounding me since my companion went away. You know what they say? When the cats away…” She shrugged. Khelgar laughed and shook his head. 

 

“Oh, believe me lass. You’ve gotta do better than get crabby with me! I’m used to it, it’s a way of life for me. But when I saw you on the docks, I just had to come an’ have a chat. After being on that stinkin' boat for weeks, staring at those ugly mutts. You wan' sumthin' pretty to look at. An' it's a bonus if that pretty thing is willing to talk back." Khelgar laughed again. "I hope you’re man will be OK with that?” 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She smiled. 

 

Just then, the tavern door swung open, her attention shot straight over to see who was walking in. Her breath hitched, her heart almost stopped as she saw a tall dark haired stranger walk in from the cold. His steel armour and fur cloak was sprinkled with fresh fallen snow. Her heart began to race as she watched him for a moment, then, slowly her heart sank with disappointment. It wasn’t him. Just another mercenary passing through and looking for a warm bed and food for the night. 

 

“You miss ‘im, don’t cha?” The Nord asked, his gruff voice was strangely soft. She didn’t know what to say, or even if she dared deny it. How could she even think about lying, when it was so obvious. She had been doing that all night, all week! Even though she had given him a fortnight to complete the quest, she had hoped he had grown wings and made the journey twice as short. 

 

Before she could reply to the man, a shadow stood beside her. She looked over to see Alesan, the little boy who was forever whizzing around Dawnstar on errands. He looked exhausted, his body trembled as he suppressed a shiver. The poor boy had been sleeping on the floor in a rowdy inn when she got here, but she had asked Thoring to bring an extra bed into her room so he could sleep safely and peacefully in a warm bed. Gods, ever since Noah had come along, Sharis felt like she was beginning to run an mobile Orphanage! Still, the company was good. But the warm fuzzy feeling she got when she realised she was changing the world, one act of random kindness at a time was so much better.

 

“Hey, Sharis.” Alesan smiled. 

“Hey, Alesan. What have you been doing all day? You look exhausted! And you’re filthy!” She exclaimed, getting a good look at him.

 

“I’ve been working.” He replied matter-of-factly. He sat down on the floor with Noah, who was over the moon to see his play mate again. Sharis frowned, giving him a disapproving stare which Alesan just reacted to with a innocent yet boyish grin. She rolled her eyes and smirked, handing him the rest of her snowberry brew.  
  


“Bit young to be diggin in the mines,  ain't ye lad.” Khelgar asked. “How do ye swing a pick with those boney arms?”

“I don't. I run errands for them. Deliver food, water, anything really. Speaking of deliver. A courier just gave me this to give to you.” He sat up and rummaged in his pocket, in his hand was a folded up parchment, folded neatly and held together with a wax seal. She turned it over to read the front:

 

Lady Sharis,  

Windpeak inn, 

Dawnstar 

 

Her heart raced and a rush of joy hit her like a wave, so much that she had to stand up. 

“Everything alright, lass?” The man asked, a little concerned with her sudden outburst. She nodded and beamed a smile. “Yes, Thank you.” She said, placing the letter in her boot and reaching down for Noah who was reaching up for her.

“Please excuse me.” She said. “Thank you for the tea.”

“No problem lass.” The man waned a smile, clearly disappointed his time with her was over,  for now. He turned his attention to the boy who stood up and took Sharis seat. “So lad, you say you deliver supplies to the miners? Ye ma n pa miners or something?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She hurried into her room and shut the door behind her, her smile was brimming with excitement to read the letter, but she couldn't help feel worried too. What if it was a farewell? What if something had happened to him? 

Oh gods no! Is that what this is? A painful knot twisted in her gut, and a slither of dread snaked its way down her back. All want to open this thing vanished at that moment. Her thumb glided over the wax with the Winterhold’s seal stamped in. No,  she needed to know. She had to know. 

 

She cracked the seal and unrolled the parchment, taking a deep breath to steady herself before she began to read. 

  
  


 

“Look, Noah. Cassie’s on his way.” Sharis smiled, giving Noah a kiss on the head and a little snuggle. Her heart sang with delight while her eyes admired the neat and tidy handwriting. It was Casavir's handwriting. No doubt about it! He had written this, more evidence that he was out there, thinking of her. It had been too long since he left for Winter’s Hold. She felt like she was going to go mad! 

 

Every day, every second that went by was torture. She missed him so much, she missed waking up in the morning and seeing him have him morning shave, watching him taking his evening prayers in silent meditation. Watching him entertain, Noah with silly faces and jestful games like ‘find the sphere’ or ‘peepo’. If it wasn’t for the caged teardrop sapphire that hung from the chain around her neck, she would have felt like he had vanished forever. He was still too real in her recollection for her to dismiss him as fictional reality. He came to her at night, sitting beside her on her bed as she slowly woke up, they would chat for hours,  though she couldn't remember what they talked about. Some nights he would climb into the bed with her and hold her. Sometimes he would kiss her - one time they even made love! Ah, wishful thinking. Those nights she would wake up in the morning feeling rather relieved and invigorated, but when she realised it was her mind playing tricks on her, she’d return to the gloomy Sharis she had been since the day he left. 

She had kept herself busy. Looking after Noah was a blessing. His routine kept her somewhat distracted. When he was napping, she would do anything to keep herself busy, she'd even taken up sewing! About time she learnt how to do it properly. She had been working on a pair of fur boots for Noah, now he was finding his feet. He had mittens, a hat to go under his hood and now boots! He just looked like a bundle of fur with a pair of eyes when he had it all on. At least he's warm! She told herself.

 

“what will Cassie think when he sees you?” she giggled. Oh boy! She was so happy to finally hear from him, she honestly hadn't expected a letter. She eyed the crossed out word on the last sentence, ‘home’. She smiled. Cassie’s coming home.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hey all.

So, I do apologise for the very, very long break from my writing. As you know, I am trying to adjust to new life in the city, and the new job is keeping me VERY busy. I sadly have little time to get a chance to sit down and start writing. So I cannot tell you guys how sorry I am for that. Also, there is another reason for my delay.

On the 28th of January 2017, my Nan left this world, and walked through the gates of Soverngarde. It wasn’t unexpected. Her health had been deteriorating for some time, but even though we all knew the day would come when we would have to give our final farewells; it still sent huge shock waves through our family circle. And even though it was heartbreaking, I can’t help but be relieved that she is no longer suffering and is finally at peace with her fifteen older siblings, her mother, father, her husband (my grandfather) and her Daughter (my aunty).

So, with that all said, I would like to dedicate this chapter to her.  I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and stay tuned in for more adventures.

Love to you all <3

 

In loving memory of my nanna, Maureen.

27th July 1927 – 28th January 2017

  
  



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